Pain Management
by shatterthoughts
Summary: Oliver's still training with Barry. Then a new meta comes up, one with a very interesting ability. Barry is not a happy camper.
1. Chapter 1

**This is probably going to be pretty OOC but it's an idea that got stuck in my head after the crossover episodes. Might continue it or might leave it at a two-shot, so let me know what you think. Not nearly as well written as my other story, but if you're a sucker for hurt/comfort like me than you might like it anyway : P Let me know what you think! TRIGGER WARNING: um, torture? Kind of? Not sure, just don't want to accidentally set anyone off. PM me if you need to know specifics before reading.**

Barry _hates_ training sessions with Oliver.

Sometimes it's fine. They talk some strategy, Oliver shoots off a couple arrows, Barry runs. Sometimes it's exhausting. Oliver's taken a liking to Cisco's treadmill. Barry runs until he's sick, runs until he flies off the thing, runs until he can't go any faster. And then there's, you know, the times that Oliver shoots him full of arrows.

But he can't stop training with him, because he _asked_ for this. And it's that stupid little look on Oliver's face, that one that says, _we can quit anytime you want_. So Barry gets back up, shows up to practice, and prays that Oliver's decided to be nice that day.

But today? Today he is exhausted before he even shows up. It was a robbery down town, nothing difficult or dangerous, but he had spent the night awake working on some last minute case files and he was halfway across town when it happened. He was still eating a sandwich when he met Oliver at the field, late, of course.

"What have you eaten today?" Oliver asked.

"Not enough," Barry said, finishing the sandwich. He was still starving.

"Good."

And that was all it took for Barry to figure out which kind of day it was going to be this time.

Oliver walked away from the old house, picking up his bow.

"So, what is it today?" Barry asked, rubbing his hands together.

"I'm going to shoot you in the leg," Oliver said.

"Um, what?"

"I'm going to shoot you in the leg."

He pulled back the bow.

The arrow came at him, but Barry moved, sideways, and it flew right by.

"And," Oliver said, "You're going to let me."

"And why exactly would I do that?"

"Because you rely too much on your running."

"Yeah, 'cause that's kind of my whole thing."

Oliver let another arrow loose. Barry dodged it again, then took a step back.

"You're speed affects your entire body. You need to learn to use it. Now stop moving."

Oliver notched another arrow.

"You're insane."

"You've said that before."

"I'm not letting you shoot me in the leg."

Oliver lowered his bow for a second. "You're just making this harder for yourself."

"How is this –" Barry cut off as something sliced through his leg. He screamed, falling to the ground on one knee. He stared down at the head of an arrow, poking out through the muscle of his calf.

Pain shot up his body and he stared down, his eyes shot wide. No matter how many times he did that, he would never get used to seeing arrows sticking out of his limbs, much less right through them.

"And you didn't case your surroundings again."

Oliver walked up to him while Barry stared at the arrow.

"First step," Oliver said, kneeling down next to him, "Is to stay focused. You got that, Barry, stay with me. You're going into shock. Look up."

Barry's head jerked upwards at the harsh command, but Oliver's face was calm.

"Focus," he said, "you'll heal."

Oliver snapped off the head of the arrow, leaving the shaft inside his leg. Barry screamed.

"Alright, stand up," Oliver said.

Barry gripped the other end of the arrow shaft, prepared to pull it out.

Oliver had the bow up in a second, and shot at his hand. Barry jerked it back, the arrow skimming his fingers and grazing two of them.

"Not yet," Oliver said.

"You're insane," Barry said, "It'll heal inside me."

"No it won't," Oliver said, taking a couple steps back. "Let's try this again." He raised the bow. Barry rolled out of the way as Oliver shot off an arrow. His leg screamed, crumpling beneath him. "I didn't sever the tendons, Barry, you can stand," Oliver said, releasing another arrow. This one grazed his shoulder, slicing through his shirt and skin painfully. Great. So Oliver wasn't trying to impale him anymore, just hurt him. The next arrow tore through his jeans and bit at his ankle.

"Next one's going through something," Oliver said. Scratch that, apparently he was still trying to skewer him.

Barry had no choice but to heave himself up, yelling in pain, just as Oliver released another arrow. He turned and it went right by him. Barry ran towards Oliver with the intention of grabbing the bow, but two yards in his leg crumpled and he fell to the ground, screaming.

"Didn't say you'd be able to run," Oliver said.

This was impossible. He was insane. And his leg fricking _hurt_. To hell with Oliver, his leg definitely was freaking healing around that arrow.

But then another arrow was hurtling towards him, and he had to push himself out of the way, and then get up. Every time he went down, Oliver aimed at his feet, so he was forced to get back up or get shot.

Barry stood in place. Oliver shot an arrow, then another, then another, and it was then that Barry started to notice a pattern. Barry could dodge them fine, he had plenty of time to either get out of the way or catch them. He didn't have to run out of the way. He could just stand there and Oliver couldn't hit him.

Except it was exhausting. Oliver fired shot after shot and Barry was constantly moving, adjusting, and shifting his weight, causing his injured leg to protest every few seconds. Damn was he going to kill Oliver later.

When Oliver finally put down the bow, out of arrows, Barry let himself sink to the ground, panting.

"That was good," Oliver said, kneeling down, "Now this is going to hurt."

Barry didn't even have time to register the words before Oliver yanked the arrow out of his leg.

Barry screamed, then panted, clutching at his leg. His jeans were soaked in blood.

"What the hell?" Barry said.

Oliver shrugged. "It just would've been worse if you expected it."

Barry let out a long breath and gingerly moved his leg. It had already stopped bleeding.

"You going to tell me what that was about?" Barry asked. "You know, you could have just said, don't move your legs – I could have done that whole thing that way!"

"You wouldn't have though," Oliver said, "Plus, this is more effective."

The meta had just finished breaking the display cases at a jewelry store when Barry arrived. There was no one around except a couple of employees and one or two customers. And they were all on the ground, a couple seemingly unconscious, one crawling away, and another with her head between her hands, screaming.

"Put the bag down," Barry said. The man turned to him slowly. He was wearing a ski mask and was holding an ordinary backpack. He paused while taking necklaces from their shelves, turning to look at Barry.

At once a pain ripped up his spine and tore down his limbs, burning like white hot fire. Barry dropped to his knees and screamed. The pain stopped then, and Barry was left staring at the floor, breathless and on all fours.

The robber walked by him calmly, his shoes crunching on the broken glass. Barry, still utterly confused and very rattled, shot out a hand and grabbed his leg, catapulting to his feet in an instant.

And then the pain hit him again, twice as hard, and this time, it didn't let up.

Barry's whole body shuddered with it, and then he was puking up the contents of his stomach. His vision blurred and he screamed before he even knew he was screaming. Just when he thought he was about to pass out, the pain stopped.

Barry crumpled to the floor, halfway in a fetal position on his side, practically paralyzed from the pain that came from nowhere and had ripped its way through his entire body.

The meta in the ski mask walked out the door. Barry lay still on the ground. When he heard sirens, he forced his muscles to move, to sit up, and then to stand, shakily. His body felt numb, his mind still reeling, and he ran back to Star Labs.

"A meta that can project pain?" Cisco said, "Whoaa, that is so –"

"If you say cool," Barry said, shivering as Caitlin checked his blood and poked and prodded him, "I might punch you."

"So… not cool," Cisco said, shaking his head, "I mean – what did it even feel like?"

Barry shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. "All I know is we need to find a way to deal with him soon."

"What did he look like?" Wells asked.

"I don't know, he was wearing a ski mask," Barry said, but on closer attention added, "He was skinny – actually really skinny, and he looked almost… old."

"You got beat by an old guy?" Cisco said.

"Alright, next time, you can come along with me and see how it feels for yourself," Barry said. He ran a hand through his hair. He still couldn't shake the feeling.

"All your tests look normal," Caitlin said, "It looks like he really is just attacking the nerves, not actually doing any damage."

"Well that's great," Barry said, "But how am I going to fight him?"

It was a week later and the ski mask meta had robbed another jewelry store and now a bank as well. All three times Barry had shown up and all three times after one or two doses of pain he was lying on his back on the ground, completely incapacitated. Cisco and Caitlin were trying to come up with a weapon they could use against him, or a way to block his powers, but so far with no luck. Barry had just gotten back from another failed attempt to stop him when Oliver approached him.

"You know, you're not very good with pain."

Barry shot Oliver a look. "I deal fine with pain. This is –"

"Not really."

Barry felt offended. "I don't –"

"Look, this isn't me trying to insult you, it's just, there's nothing actually stopping you from taking down this guy – it's just the pain – there's nothing physically stopping you."

"That pain is –"

"Different, I know. I followed you to the last one."

"What?" Barry asked, surprised.

"I got within range," Oliver said, "It seems like he can direct it at a person, or just send out like, a pulse or something of that power of his. I got hit by it. Not fun. But not impossible either."

"Then you take him down," Barry said.

"That's the thing – I tried."

"What?" Barry said again. This time Caitlin and Cisco said it as well.

"After he got away from the last heist, I followed him. And, I shot him in the leg."

The three of them stared at him.

"Whatever his power is, he can't actually feel pain himself. Meaning, I can take him down, but I'd have to kill him. Once I hit him, I obviously got his attention, and he doubled up the pain. I passed out after that, but I laced that arrow with tranquilizers, and trust me that didn't stop whatever that power of his is."

"So you could kill him," Barry said, biting his lip.

Oliver nodded.

"He hasn't done anything violent," Caitlin said.

Barry looked down. "We can't just execute him for robbing a couple of stores."

"The other option," Oliver said, "Would be for you to become more pain resistant."

Barry blinked.

"With your healing," Oliver said, "It would be safe, as long as it's done right, and with your speed, you stand a chance of incapacitating him before he could double up that pain – as long as your able to stop the first shot of it."

"I don't like where this conversation is going."

Oliver shrugged. "It's up to you."

"You want to torture me?"

"I want to train you."

"You're already doing that."

"This would be different. I'm not doing it unless you let me."

"I didn't really agree to be shot with arrows the other day either but you did that."

"You agreed when you didn't run off as soon as I started shooting them."

Barry bit his lip.

"What would this training consist of."

"Pain resistance."

"And what would that be?"

"Either you're in or you're out, Barry, what is it?"

"This is really the only option?"

"We're not any closer to finding a way to remotely block his powers," Caitlin said.

"I am in the working on a helmet that might work though… if you can get it on him," Cisco added.

Barry's stomach sank.

"It's your choice," Oliver said. "I could kill him, or we could wait and see if Caitlin can come up with something."

Barry shook his head. Every day he waited they were endangering more people, taking more people's livelihoods away with the robberies. But he couldn't just kill him. Just execute the guy, no matter how much the idea appealed to him right now.

Barry looked at Caitlin. "You don't have any leads on a way to remotely stop him?"

Caitlin opened her mouth but didn't say anything. Barry could see her eyes moving, desperately trying to come up with something that would get Barry out of this.

Barry looked back at Oliver. "Fine."

Barry walked into the room they had prepared at Star Labs.

The _torture_ room.

Barry shook his head.

"Remember," Caitlin said, "You don't have to do this. If you change your mind – just tell us."

Barry nodded and clenched his teeth. "No, he's right, I can catch him with my speed as long as I can withstand the pain."

He walked towards Oliver and Caitlin left the room. Oliver had insisted on their being alone.

Barry almost turned right around when he saw what Oliver had in front of him. It was a table top slanted at maybe a seventy degree angle from the floor, and there were restraints attached to it. Big, strong, and very terrifying looking restraints.

"I have to get on that thing?" Barry asked, pointing. God, he hoped his voice didn't shake as much as he thought it did.

Oliver gave a reassuring smile, and put a hand on his arm, guiding him over. Barry stepped onto two horizontal wedges, put specifically for him to stand on, and leaned back against the flat edge of the table. Oliver started clicking the restraints into place, and Barry wondered for the hundredth time what he had gotten himself into.

"If I promise to stay still do you think we could skip the whole restraints part?" Barry asked meekly.

"Relax, Barry," Oliver said, clicking the last one in place.

Barry tugged at the one over his arm experimentally. His chest was tightening.

"You know, I really don't like being strapped down."

"No one does," Oliver said.

And for the first time, Barry wondered what exactly Oliver was going to do to simulate the pain that the ski mask man could inflict, and that's when he started to sweat.

"Um, Oliver," Barry said.

"Yeah?"

"What exactly… I mean that pain is really bad."

Oliver sighed. "Just relax Barry. I'm not going to start off with that. We'll build our way up."

Barry wasn't really sure if that was any better.

Oliver pulled out a knife, and Barry tried not to look at it. OK, it was officially getting to him – being tied down, the knife in front of him – yep, Barry was starting to hyperventilate. It might have been better if he was being tortured for information or something – at least then Barry could hate his attacker, could have something to grab onto and take strength from. But no, this was just pain, mindless, needless pain.

Oliver brought the knife to Barry's arm and Barry flinched, jerking his head to the other side and closing his eyes.

"Barry," Oliver said, "I'm not going to hurt you – not really, not right now. Now look, you're going to watch and you're going to be OK. It will hurt for a second, you'll heal, and you'll be OK."

Barry turned his head away again and this time Oliver grabbed him, his hand rough on Barry's face, forcing him to turn and watch, but the action was slow and deliberate.

"Watch. I don't want you terrified of everything – that won't help."

Oliver cut smoothly across his arm. Barry let out a gasp, but the cut was shallow. His adrenaline masked most of the pain and Oliver stopped and waited while Barry caught his breath.

"See, you're OK," he said.

Barry nodded.

Oliver made more cuts, slicing up both his arms, gradually getting deeper.

"OK," Barry said through gritted teeth, "It's starting to hurt."

"Keep breathing," Oliver said. The cuts got deeper.

Barry's breathing was shallow and fast. "Oliver."

"Yes?"

"Hurts… a lot."

"I know. Breathe through it." By now the first cuts had faded, entirely healed. Oliver started going over that skin, working his way down both arms again before moving to his legs for the second time.

Barry was sweating again, his hair plastered to his face and his eyes squeezed shut. He squirmed every few seconds, gritting his teeth. When Oliver reached his arms for the third time he started to yell with every cut.

"How much longer?" Barry ground out. He knees felt weak. He was straining against the restraints.

"You've still got a lot to go."

Barry screamed in frustration and pain.

"Focus on something else."

"Can't with you – ah – cutting up my skin like that."

"Yes you can – relax and focus."

"This is too much," Barry gasped. He screamed at a particularly deep cut.

"You're doing fine," Oliver said.

Barry almost laughed. "Oh yeah… just… screaming over here."

"Scream all you want," Oliver said, "It might even help."

Barry shook his head but when the next cut ripped across his skin he took Oliver up on that advice.

After another fifteen minutes Barry was shaking and he had his eyes closed, head lolling and sweat drenching his skin.

"You still with me, Barry?" Oliver asked.

"Uh-huh," Barry said. His vision was shaky. He had stopped feeling the individual cuts, just the immense pain of it.

"Don't pass out."

"Hm."

"I mean it, you pass out and I'm going to go for longer. You got that?"

Barry groaned.

He tugged at the restraints weakly. He never should have let Oliver put those on him.

"Almost done?" he asked. His voice was raw.

"Not quite."

"You've gotta be almost done," Barry said.

"Getting there."

"Oliver."

"You have to get used to it, Barry, and since we don't exactly have months to prepare you that means going for long stretches."

"I can't take much more," Barry said.

"Yes you can," Oliver replied.

Barry screamed as the blade sliced into him again. He jerked against the restraints.

"Just… just lesson up a little bit."

"No can do, Barry."

"Oliver."

"Breathe through it."

Barry screamed again and then shuddered, gasping.

"Oliver, please."

"You'll get through this Barry."

"It hurts!" Barry screamed at another cut.

"I know it does."

"Just… just one break."

Oliver cut another path.

"Ugh! Oliver, please!"

"The more you focus on breathing and concentrating elsewhere the easier it'll be," Oliver said. Barry cried out again.

"Come on, that's enough, that's enough," Barry said.

Oliver made another cut. He watched as Barry screamed, his whole body writhing, pulling against the restraints. He could see Barry deteriorating. The kid was reaching his breaking point.

"Stop!" Barry yelled. Oliver grimaced and kept cutting. It hurt him to see Barry this way, but he knew what would happen when he proposed the idea.

"Oliver, stop," Barry yelled, "I can't do anymore." The kid was dangerously close to tears. Oliver let out a long breath. This was going to be the hard part. It was one thing to stick him with a couple arrows to make a point, but pulling him past the breaking point, this was going to be tough.

"Oliver, please!"

And there was the first tear. Oliver had to look away. Barry was still fighting with himself, blinking furiously and trembling, trying to keep those tears in his eyes, but he was losing.

"It's enough," Barry said, his voice cracking.

After two more cuts Barry was sobbing.

Oliver was afraid that he might pass out from shear lack of air at that point. He kept reminding Barry to breathe, and telling him to focus, that it would be alright in the end, but Barry was ignoring him now, as Oliver knew he would.

Barry didn't notice but after that Oliver started gradually tapering off the cuts, making them shallower and shallower again, until they were just scratches and Barry was silent, trembling and hiccupping, his face stained with tears and sweat.

"Are you done?" Barry asked when Oliver stopped using the knife, standing beside him instead.

Oliver nodded. Barry's voice was chafed raw. He pushed at the restraints. "Let me out."

"Not yet."

"Let me out, damn it!" Barry screamed. Her jerked against the restraints.

"Calm down."

Barry was dangerously close to tears again. He just wanted the restraints off, he wanted them off _now_.

"Relax. I'm going to give you some water."

A water bottle was at his lips a minute later, and Barry drank, very slowly at first, then with huge gulps. Oliver pulled it away all too soon.

"You can have some more in a minute. Can you move your fingers for me?"

Barry moved them slowly.

"And your toes? Can you move your toes?"

Barry nodded as he moved them inside his sneakers slowly.

"Good. Now close your eyes. I want you to breath in, count to five, and breathe back out. You got it? That's it. One…two.."

Barry breathed in as Oliver counted.

"I'm going to let your wrists out first," Oliver said.

As soon as his hands were free Barry felt so much better.

"You're going to be shaky on your feet. Don't move until I get both feet undone. And then let me help you."

Barry waited while Oliver undid the restraints, but he was impatient to get off the table, to get as far away from that thing as possible.

Oliver steadied him while he hopped down, and then led him into a different room. Barry lay down on a couch almost immediately, and Oliver handed him the rest of the water bottle to drink.

"Barry," Oliver said, "You're already almost completely healed, but this is really important. You start having phantom pains, or nightmares, or anything, you've got to tell me. I know this is hard, trust me, and it can go really bad really fast if it's not done right. You can hate me right now if you want, but you need to tell me what's going on with you."

Barry nodded, but he didn't really hear. He was already leaning back onto the couch, eyes shutting. He was exhausted.

**Sorry if Oliver is very OOC - i don't watch Arrow, which is why this isn't labeled as a crossover (considering starting it though - should I?) Definitely will have at least one more chapter - but i might continue it - review and let me know if you think i should :) Or just let me know if you think of it :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**TRIGGER WARNING: kinda torture again? same type of thing as before i guess - for anyone wondering i think i will continue this story, at least for a couple more chapters anyway - hope you like it :)**

Barry almost called in sick at Star Labs the next day. He really was not looking forward to another session with Oliver.

He showed up late, maybe a little later than usual, and Oliver was waiting for him when he trudged in, the same room, with the same table that made him wince already.

"Think we could skip that today?" Barry asked hopefully, pointing at the table.

"Come on, Barry," Oliver said, walking towards it. Barry trudged forward again, going about half as fast as he normally walked. He shuffled his feet.

But soon the restraints were all on him and he was once again held down. That's when Oliver wheeled over the tray that he hadn't noticed before.

"No," Barry said, "Absolutely not." He pressed against the restraints, panic bubbling up.

"Barry –"

"No," he said, "The knife – fine – just – no. I'm not doing that."

"Barry, just relax."

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. He banged at the restraints.

"Barry, it won't be that bad, I promise."

"Your promises," Barry said, "About this, mean nothing."

"It seems a lot worse than it is. I'm going to start out nice and slow, like last time."

"Yeah, and you very quickly started going a lot faster," Barry said.

"I'll keep going slow until you're comfortable."

"I am not going to be comfortable with that."

"Barry –"

"I mean it, Oliver, I'll do this – I'll do this whole pain resistance thing but not – not that."

On the table that Oliver had wheeled over was an electric burner, a flame already sprouted up and several long poles of metal with various sized circles on the ends of them. They were brands.

Oliver picked up one of the poles, one of the smallest ones. Barry started to struggle.

"No," he said, his breath catching in his throat. He started fighting, jerking away.

"Barry," Oliver said, his free hand out, "Easy – easy, Barry, relax."

"Don't touch me," Barry nearly yelled. He couldn't breathe.

Oliver took his arm in his hand and Barry screamed, all resolve gone.

"Shhh, it's alright, it's OK," Oliver said. He placed the tip gently against Barry's arm.

Barry gasped, but then the yelling stopped, and his body relaxed. He panted, taking short, shallow breaths. A warm point hit his skin, but the brand was barely hot. It didn't even hurt.

"There, see, just heat," Oliver said.

Barry gulped, gaining back some control. "I don't – I don't like fires. Burned myself, when I was young – it's not usually a problem." He smiled meekly.

"It's OK," Oliver said, but mentally he was scrambling. This was going to complicate things. "I'll take it extra slow."

Barry looked at the poles again. Oliver wheeled it out of view. He started hyperventilating as soon as Oliver brought over a new one. He relaxed slightly when Oliver tested it on his own skin first, merely shaking his hand.

This one hurt a little. Barry let out another gasp, but after a second it was fine.

"Do we really have to do these?" Barry asked. "Can't we go back to the knife?"

"Barry, it's going to be alright," Oliver said, grabbing the first one again, this time heated up a bit longer.

Barry let out a short cry this time. He erupted into tremors.

"OK," he said, "Slower – slower please." He was hyperventilating again.

Oliver brought back the same one again. Barry flinched away.

"Barry," Oliver said, "You need to look over here. It's OK. It's just a little heat. You're body heals it up before I'm even back."

Barry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Oliver, I just – I can't watch on this one."

"Yes you can, come on," Oliver said.

Barry took in a deep breath and turned his eyes back to Oliver. Oh God, the kid was scared. Oliver wondered if maybe he should switch back to the knife.

But no, he couldn't prepare him just with that. To make that kind of pain with a knife – Barry would bleed out even with his healing.

"It's OK," Oliver repeated, looking straight at Barry as the brand hit his skin. Barry winced, but didn't jerk away this time.

Oliver kept going with only light heat. Barry relaxed a little bit, but anytime he brought the heat level up a little, he tensed up all over again.

They were at it for over a half hour and still hadn't made much progress when Oliver started noticing the strain in Barry's eyes. Ugh. He teetered with the idea of stopping, but ultimately this was taking too long. It wasn't ideal, but he was going to have to give Barry a break.

Oliver went and put the poles down, then grabbed a water bottle.

"Are we done?" Barry asked.

The look almost made Oliver quit right then. _Not even close,_ he thought, but he just shook his head. "Taking a break."

He gave Barry some water , and let him relax for a couple minutes.

"OK," Oliver said. He came back with the same pole, but this time heated up hotter. Barry took a deep breath, bracing himself. Oliver pressed the metal to his skin.

"Ow, shit, Oliver," Barry yelled, jerking away even though he was tied down.

"It's going to have to start getting a little hotter," Oliver said, "Otherwise we'll be here all night."

Barry grimaced, his eyes pleading. Oliver brought back another one. The second hit made Barry screw up his eyes and clench his teeth. After the third he was trembling again.

"How you doing Barry?" Oliver asked. He had the brands over close to him again, and he had opted for trying a continuous stream of burns rather than hitting him one at a time with more painful ones.

"This sucks," Barry said.

"I know, keep breathing."

"You keep saying that," Barry said.

"You keep holding your breath."

Oliver gradually increased the intensity of the burns. Barry gradually got louder and louder with his complaints, yelling and crying out, until they suddenly died out altogether.

After the third or fourth burn with almost no response at all, Oliver looked over at Barry, peering across the table where his head was hanging down.

"You still there, Barry?" Oliver asked, grabbing another rod.

Barry nodded slowly. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were shut, his face screwed up and strained.

Oliver continued. The silence was unnerving. It was better when he just yelled, let out the pain and frustration. Barry just lay there, tensing every time the brand hit his skin.

"Hey," Oliver said finally, shaking his shoulder. "Stay with me here."

"You said focus on something else," Barry said slowly, voice raw.

"That's not focusing," Oliver said, "That's just zoning out. You're shutting down, if you want to stop the metahuman, you're going to have to act."

Barry groaned.

Oliver went into the next round of burns. Barry still stayed in his nice shut down mode for a while. He didn't want to think. It hurt to think, everything hurt. It didn't matter much though, because Oliver decided it was time to go to the next level, and the brands started getting larger and hotter and very, very painful. Barry couldn't stay stuck in his head any longer, and the yells came back, then the curses, and finally, the pleas.

"Another break," Barry gasped.

"Can't do it, Bar," Oliver said, shaking his head.

"Please," Barry said. He yelled again.

Barry turned his head. He saw the next one coming, how it was burning red hot. It was larger than the others, a new one, and it was almost the size of his hand.

"Not that one," he said, "Oliver, that's too much, don't."

"It's OK, Barry," Oliver said, "You don't have to watch this one. Close your eyes."

"No," Barry said, pulling at the restraints, "Oliver, please, it's too much – not yet, just not yet, let me – just give me one minute."

"Close your eyes Barry. It'll be done in a second."

"No," he said, "not yet – Oliver, Oliver!" The brand came down on his skin, his leg and Barry screamed, the pain flaring through him. It was the worst one yet.

"Stop," he cried when it was done, "That's enough, no more."

"Getting there, Barry."

"Oliver, enough."

"Just try and relax."

"A break then – just – just five minutes."

"It'll just drag it out longer."

To be fair, Oliver was increasing the speed of things rapidly. It was taking too damn long. They had been at it for an hour and a half. Oliver didn't want to go for more than two hours at a time with Barry – he needed to hurry up.

He placed another brand against Barry's skin.

The pleading continued, back and forth. When they reached the peak of things – when Oliver was going in quick secessions with the brands and Barry was screaming and crying, Barry vomited. Oliver was actually surprised it had taken this long before he puked. There were towels there for that purpose but after cleaning him up a little Oliver went right back to work.

It wasn't long after that that Oliver started going back to the smaller, cooler brands. He tapered it off just like he had with the cuts, except faster this time because it had taken so long. Barry looked gray and he had taken on a sickly pallor. This time, when Oliver finally finished, Barry didn't say anything. Oliver brought the water bottle to Barry's lips, but Barry turned his head away, leaning it back against the table.

"Hey, Barry," Oliver said softly, "It's all done. Take a drink."

Barry turned his head again though, eyes closed, and groaned.

"Come on Barry, it's all over, you need to drink something."

Barry suddenly gagged, and then started dry heaving, his stomach convulsing.

"Easy, easy," Oliver said, "Alright, I'm gonna get you out of these things, OK?"

Oliver undid the restraints and Barry practically fell off the table.

"Oh, ugh, come on, Barry," Oliver said, catching him and helping him into the other room, where the couch was.

Barry lay down, his head against the armrest on the couch.

Oliver tried one more time with the water bottle. "Come on, Barry, you've got to drink something."

"No," Barry mumbled.

"You can't sleep until you have something to drink," Oliver said in a stern tone. Barry took no notice. He shivered.

"I have to make sure you're OK, Barry, alright? Then you can sleep."

Barry made no response.

"Barry, if you don't open your eyes and listen to me I'm going to hook you up to an IV."

Barry cracked his eyes open. He did not look happy.

Barry grabbed the water bottle with shaking fingers, bringing it to his lips. He downed half the bottle, then threw it to the ground, leaning back down.

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked.

"Like shit," Barry said.

"You doing OK, though?"

"You just stuck me with hot iron like a million times."

"Alright, we'll talk later," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. Barry slumped down, but it took him longer to fall asleep this time. Oliver left, but he was only in the other room. He wasn't leaving until Barry woke up. Barry shifted and fidgeted though. He started shivering, and found a blanket set out for him. He finally fell into a fitful sleep.

**Review please :) It is very much appreciated - let me know any ideas/suggestions/comments **


	3. Chapter 3

**TRIGGER WARNING:** **tortureish, less than previous chapters**

Barry was on his way to Star Labs the next day, thinking about how much he didn't want to see Oliver, when his phone rang.

"Hello?"  
>"The bank on Hope street, near the corner mall – it's Doctor Pain again."<p>

"Got it," Barry said, "why doctor?"

"Just go," Cisco yelled.

Barry slipped the phone into his pocket, changed into his suit, and then he was racing for the bank.

He didn't have time to be either thankful or apprehensive for another shot at the thief. He was just determined that this time he was going to stop him.

He found the bank like he had found all the other stores – except this time there were more people around. All of them were on the ground, some screaming, but most of them paralyzed. Barry raced past them to the vault. He found the man in the ski mask there, dumping bills into a bag.

For just a split second, Barry took inventory. This time he noticed the shape and slump of the man's shoulders, the limp in his walk, the shaky hands. He was short, a thin build.

Barry didn't stop to say hello. He had a prototype of the helmet Cisco was working on. It _should_ be able to block the pain signals that the guy could transmit. Should. Eighty five percent sure, Cisco had said. He ran for the guy.

He made it five feet when it hit him. It knocked the breath out of his lungs and he dropped, skidding to the ground. Somehow it was worse than he remembered.

_Get up, get up, _he thought. But he was frozen in agonizing pain. He forced himself to move, but it was like he was going in slow motion. He couldn't make his limbs work correctly, never mind run. He got halfway to a standing position, sped for about a fraction of a second, and then the man sent another pain pulse.

This one seared through Barry's body like he was being dipped in lava. It was just one bright flash though. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

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LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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"You made improvement," Oliver said.

Barry shook. There was still a bruise on his jaw from where it had connected with the tile floor when he passed out. He couldn't shake the feeling that fire was still going up and down his arms.

"Not enough," he said.

"It means it's working though," Caitlin said.

Barry looked away. He wasn't sure that was really a comforting idea.

Oliver slapped a hand over his shoulder, "A little more training and you'll be able to get him."

Barry's stomach turned.

"Yeah, well, I think for today I'm just going to head home," he said.

"We'll make it a short one today."

"Oliver –"

"I promise, half an hour – that's all."

"I really don't feel great right now," Barry said. Actually, he kind of felt like he was going to throw up.

"Your blood sugar's down," Caitlin said, frowning and looking at the sample they had taken.

"I ate like three of those calorie things this morning," Barry responded.

"So is your white blood cell count," Caitlin added.

"Let me see your arm," Caitlin said. She quickly took another sample, and then started analyzing that one as well.

"It's already gone up," she said.

"You think that guy can do actual damage, not just cause pain?" Oliver asked.

"It looks like it, with a high enough dose," Caitlin said, "You got hit by that same second wave, right – let me check you."

The blood sample of Oliver's blood revealed a low white blood cell count, but without his medical records, she couldn't determine if it was normal or abnormal for him. It wasn't anywhere near dangerous.

"Hmm," Caitlin said. "Let me run some more tests."

She then walked off in search of other lab equipment, leaving Oliver and Barry alone.

Oliver looked at him. Barry avoided eye contact.

"Barry," Oliver said.

"Do we really have to do this again today?" Barry asked, "I just blacked out from pain like twenty minutes ago."

"It's been almost an hour," Oliver deadpanned.

"Closer to half," Barry mumbled.

Oliver turned around, and walked into the practice room. Barry sat there for a moment, his stomach churning, contemplating running out right then. Ultimately, he sighed, stood up, and followed Oliver dejectedly.

"Just a half hour?" Barry asked.

"Half hour," Oliver said, "And I won't even have you lie on the table."

Barry's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "Why, what are we doing instead."

Oliver grabbed his bow and walked into the room in front of Barry.

"I'm going to shoot you," he said.

"I don't like this idea."

"And you're going to let me."

"Definitely don't like this idea."

Oliver pulled the string back. "Don't move."

Barry broke out into a sweat. Sure, Oliver had shot him before, but it wasn't like he wanted to repeat the experience.

"Ready?"

"No!"

"If you move, I'm going to shoot you with two instead."

Well that was lovely motivation.

Oliver let go of the arrow and Barry squeezed his eyes shut, everything slowing down. He didn't use his powers though, didn't speed out of the way, didn't even look. Then pain exploded in his leg, right through his calf, exactly like the training exercise before.

"Agghh!" he screamed, dropping to one knee just like last time. He took in deep, shuddering breaths. Pain seared up and down his leg.

"Stand up."

"Let me take it out," Barry said.

"Up."

Barry groaned and stood straight, his teeth clenched.

"Now run towards me."

Barry stared at him. "I can't… run," he ground out.

"Not super speed run, just normal, everyday running."

"I can't."

"Yes you can," Oliver said.

Barry took a step. His leg dragged and he yelled again.

Oliver raised his bow. "I'm going to shoot the other leg, if you're not running in three second."

Barry screamed and moved forward. It wasn't really a run, maybe somewhere between a jog and a limp. He yelled every time his injured leg hit the ground, the jolt jarring up his whole body. He moved towards Oliver, who was only about twenty feet away, and then stopped.

"Keep going," Oliver said, "In circles, around the room."

"Oliver," Barry said.

"Do it," Oliver said, "Or I'll shoot another leg, and you can practice running with two bad legs."

Barry yelled in frustration, but when Oliver lifted the bow he started jogging in circles, yelling and swearing as he did. Pain shot up his leg. It nearly crumpled under him on every hit.

After four circles around the room, Barry stopped, panting and turning to Oliver.

"I have to stop," he said.

Oliver raised the bow.

"Oliver!"

Barry only managed to avoid the arrow that then came flying towards him by using his speed, his leg screaming in protest, and then he continued his jarred running.

"When can I stop?" Barry asked.

"In a half hour."

"Oliver –"

"You have to be able to run while in pain – even when running causes you pain."

"I can't do this for a half hour," he said.

And then Oliver turned to him, his face blank. "Alright."

Barry stopped running, staring at him. "Alright?"

Oliver nodded. "You can stop," he said, and he pointed at the far wall, "If you run to that wall using super speed and then back."

Barry's face fell. "Oliver, I can't –"

"Wall and back," Oliver said, then checked his watch "Or you still have twenty one minutes to go."

Barry screwed up his face. The next thing Oliver knew Barry was in the middle of the room, on the ground, vomiting. Oliver walked over to him.

"You have to make it all the way across in one go, twice," he said.

Barry shot him a murderous look. He got up, hobbled to one side of the room, clenched his teeth, and ran.

The pain was searing up his leg, his muscles moving way too fast and the arrow still lodged in his leg acting as drag with air resistance. One step, two steps, Barry was screaming, but it only took a few more to get across, just… just… there.

Barry collapsed on the ground. Blood was seeping out onto his jeans.

"Isn't that enough?" Barry asked, leaning a hand against the wall for support.

"One more," Oliver said.

Barry screamed.

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LIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEE BBBBBBRRRRRRRRREEAAAAAAAAAAKKKK

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Barry ended up running the last sprint, then there was the painful part where Oliver ripped the arrow out of him, and then he had quickly made his way home.

Somehow these sessions with Oliver always left him exhausted, but tonight it was getting late already when Barry went home. So when he crashed at around eight o'clock, he was expecting a good night's rest.

Instead he woke up out of breath, drenched in sweat, at around two am, a scream stuck in his throat and his fingers clenched in the sheets.

Barry's eyes darted around the room, his body jerked upwards. When he realized he was in his room, and it was only a nightmare, his body started to relax. He lay back down, focused on evening out his breathing, and fell back asleep.

That was the first one.

**Review please :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, sorry it took so long. Nothing really bad in this chapter, but if the torture stuff bothers you, you really should have stopped reading a while ago. Anyway, took me a little while to figure out where i was going with this but i think I've got a good direction now. Hope you like it :)**

Three more days and no more robberies. Three more sessions with Oliver. Maybe six or seven more nightmares. And that was about when Barry gave up on sleep.

He was getting touchy. He came into work late, left late, and came to Star Labs late, but he never missed a session. It had become this grueling routine for him, a mantra in his head. He had to go because he had to stop the bad guy, and he wouldn't let himself think beyond that because if he did he'd never get himself to Star labs. The stress was starting to get to him. And what made it worse was Oliver was starting to take it easy on him – going slower, talking more, stopping sooner. It made him feel weak, like he couldn't handle it, but it also made him afraid that it was only going to take longer – that he would fail yet again when the thief struck. He was determined to be fast enough next time.

He was sitting at his desk in his lab when Joe came up to give him a report. Barry was staring at the papers in front of him, his head braced against his hands.

"You doing alright there?" Joe asked, dropping the stack of files on his desk. "You look like you're getting sick."

Barry shook his head and looked up. "Just tired."

Joe frowned at him. "Maybe you should talk to the captain, go home, get some sleep."

Barry shook his head again. Joe didn't know that he was still seeing Oliver. "I'm fine."

"Is this superhero stuff?" Joe asked, "Or are you just being stubborn and won't go home when you're sick?"

"Too much work to do," Barry said, gesturing towards the stack. "You know that guy who keeps robbing everyone?"

"Yeah."

"He can project pain. I can't stop him."

"You'll figure out a way."

"Yeah."

Joe headed back downstairs and Barry watched him go. "We have figured out a way," he mumbled to himself.

LIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"You look awful," Caitlin said.

"Thanks."

Caitlin frowned but didn't say anything. Barry was very aware of her standpoint on the whole thing – she didn't like it, but she didn't have any better ideas so she didn't say anything. Cisco just thought he was crazy.

Oliver was waiting for him, as always. Barry walked towards the door to the other room.

Oliver frowned when he saw him. Barry was starting to take on an ashen pallor, circles under his eyes. It was painfully obvious he wasn't sleeping, and there was a tension to him that had manifested in the past few days.

"Barry," Oliver said, blocking him, "I think we should take a break first."

"We haven't even started," Barry said.

"I know – you don't look so good."

Barry's jaw set. His face went blank. "I'm fine. Let's just get it over with." He walked past Oliver into the training room. Oliver shot a look at Caitlin, exasperated. She just frowned and shrugged. He went in after Barry.

Barry was already clicking himself into the restraints on the table when Oliver entered. His hands were shaking as he did it, and his movements were rushed, half vibrating. He just wanted it done.

Oliver clicked the last one in place for him. Barry let out a breath and leaned back, closing his eyes. He smiled for a minute.

"So, what is it today?" he asked, "Knives, fire, arrows? A combination? Going to chop off a few fingers?"

Oliver pulled up a syringe.

"Shots!" Barry said, "Wonderful." He watched as Oliver got it ready. It didn't look that menacing – not like in the movies with the giant needles and the neon colored substances. Whatever he was putting in the thing was a clear liquid, and the needle looked like it could be used for a tetanus booster. "Something tells me that's not a chicken pox vaccine," Barry said.

"No," Oliver said, cleaning the area on Barry's arm with an antiseptic wipe. "It'll hurt, but you'll be OK. Normally I'd say it would last thirty minutes. You'll probably feel it for about two."

"Great."

"Ready?"

"Aren't I always?" The comment came out bitter. Oliver took in a breath and injected the serum into Barry's arm. Barry sucked in a breath too, but that was all for a few second. Then it hit him.

Barry was on fire.

His arm felt like it was about to explode, and he could feel, actually feel the substance spreading through his body, moving too fast and the pain burning its way through his veins. He clenched his teeth and fists and squeezed his eyes shut as his muscles seemed to spasm inside him. He let out a scream and then shut his mouth again, his breath coming in shuddering gasps that shook his body. It was searing, the closest thing to what the thief could do that he had experienced yet, except this one – it felt like it would never end. When the needles of pain finally slowed down, simmering out, he was panting and covered in sweat. He was suddenly exhausted, his whole body going limp and numb.

"Barry – hey, how about some water," Oliver said. He shook his shoulder but Barry turned his head away.

"No," he said.

"We're going to take a little break, OK?" Oliver said. He reached down and checked Barry's pulse. He needed to get Caitlin in there. The drugs were safe, he knew, he'd experienced them himself – made sure they were OK, but he needed to know they weren't affecting Barry in some way he hadn't anticipated. The kid looked like he was going to pass out and that was just one shot.

"No," Barry said. The ferocity of the words surprised him. He was looking right at him now, gasping in breaths. "Just… do it now, the next one… Oliver, do it now."

"I want to check you out first, make sure everything's OK," Oliver said. Barry's chest was still heaving. The drug was definitely out of his system, but he wasn't coming down from the pain.

"I'm fine, just do the next one," Barry said. He closed his eyes as if to brace himself but Oliver just put a hand on his shoulder again.

"Just try and calm down," Oliver said.

Barry shook his head. "Please, Oliver." There was a note of desperation to his voice now. "I just want it over with. Don't make me stop. Don't make me think about it."

And then it clicked. Oliver stared at him for a moment, and then he was unclicking the restraints, opening them all up.

"What… what are you doing?" Barry said.

"You're done," Oliver said.

"No – Oliver I can do it, I'm fine –"

"No, you're done," Oliver said again, opening up the cuffs around Barry's ankles.

But Barry grabbed Oliver's arm. "I can't let you kill him," Barry said, "He hasn't hurt anyone – not – he doesn't deserve to die and –"

Oliver took his arm. "I'm not going to kill him," he said, "you can still do this. Just not right now."

"But –"

"Barry," Oliver said, "I am not watching while you have a panic attack right in front of me after one injection and then going to inject you repeatedly again."

"I can do this," he said.

Oliver's hand was around his wrist and he brought it up, into Barry's line of vision. His hand was shaking, half-vibrating.

"Not right now," Oliver said, "Right now, we get you checked out. And you tell me what the hell has been going on instead of keeping it to yourself. People don't just break into spasms for no reason. You've endured a lot more than that without this bad of a reaction before."

Oliver helped him off the table. Barry shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. He went back out to the room where Caitlin was waiting.

"What happened?" she asked immediately, "Is everything OK?" They hadn't been in the room much more than five minutes.

"I want you to conduct a full medical exam," Oliver said. "Make sure there's nothing physical that could be causing problems."

"Sure," Caitlin said. Barry sat down at one of the beds and Caitlin came over. She started hooking up machines while Barry sat, still on the bed. He kept his eyes on the ground. When she took a blood sample both Caitlin and Oliver noted the flinch that Barry made. Caitlin just looked at Oliver, a very freaked out and just a tad menacing look, one that said, _you had better fix this or so help me God I'll kill you._ She checked all his vital signs but found nothing wrong, except his breathing and heart rate were still up.

"Barry," Caitlin said, "Can you take some deep breaths? You need to calm down."

Barry made some exaggerated, slow breaths, but the monitors stayed pretty much the same. As soon as Caitlin finished with the monitors he grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it on, shoving his hands in the big middle pocket to hide them.

Oliver pulled up a chair next to Barry "You're having nightmares," he said, "They're keeping you up. What are they about?"

"I don't remember," Barry said.

Oliver wiped a hand over his face. "The thief? More sessions? Your parent-"

"I don't remember," Barry repeated, harder this time.

"Alright – how about the shaking? That start today or has it been going on for a while?"

"It's not a big deal."

"Is it happening just here or all day long?"

"I told you it's not a big deal."

"Barry, I can't help you if you won't talk to me," Oliver said, exasperated.

"I don't want to talk." Barry got up, moving towards the door. "Call me if the thief shows up. I'll be here tomorrow at four." There was a burst of air and he was gone.

"Hm," Caitlin said, "he apparently gets cranky when you stab him a bunch of times, over, and over, and over again."

Oliver let out a long sigh. "I told him this could happen. I could just kill the thief, but –"

"Barry won't let you," Caitlin finished, "The guy hasn't hurt anyone."

"No, but it be a lot easier," Oliver mumbled.

"Let him cool off," Caitlin said, "I'll call him later."

Oliver blinked and then was pulling out his own phone.

"What are you doing?" Caitlin asked.

"Sending in the cavalry." Oliver muttered, "he won't talk to me, but –"

_"__Hello?"_

Oliver smiled. "Felicity. I need your help."

**Felicity to the rescue! Sick of trying to decide if Caitlin or Iris would make the better comforter in my stories so I'm going with Felicity on this one. Tell me what you guys think! Should have a chapter up sooner this time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING: tortury stuff and panic attack in this one. **

Barry was working at his desk in his lab at the police station when he heard the door open. He was shocked to see Felicity walking in.

"Felicity," Barry said, immediately getting up, "what are you doing here?"

Felicity smiled at him and they hugged briefly. "Checking out some of Queen's assets in the area – I thought I'd stop in."

Barry smiled. He leaned back against his desk.

"What have you been up to?" Felicity asked, "Any new crazy villains? Go faster than light yet?"

"No," Barry said. He ran one hand through his hair, then gestured at the stack of paperwork on his desk. "Just normal villains right now. How's Diggle and Roy?" He tried to change the subject quickly.

"They're good," Felicity said. "But Oliver said you were having trouble with a meta human here. He only came back for a day or two, and then left for here again."

"Oh, yeah," Barry said, "It's uh – we're having trouble with this one."

"So what can he do?" Felicity asked, her eyes going wide, excitedly.

"Oliver didn't tell you?" Barry asked.

Felicity's smile wavered. Barry's eyes were darting around the place and he kept fidgeting with his hands. She shifted her stance. "No," she said, "he said I should ask you."

Barry closed his eyes and sighed. "He sent you to check up on me."

"What?"

"He sent you –"

"I heard you Barry – why, is something wrong."

"No," Barry said quickly. Felicity frowned at him. She crossed her arms.

"So who's the meta?"

"He's a theif," Barry said, "that's all we know."

"And what's his power?"

"He can, um – he can project pain."

Felicity blinked at him.

"Oh, Barry."

"It's fine," he said.

"How much pain are we talking – does he have to touch you or is it like –"

"No," Barry said, "It's like a sound wave or something – we're no sure."

"Have you figured out a way to block it?"

"Cisco has a helmet that should block him from using it while he's wearing it."

"Oh," Felicity said, brightening up, "Well then you just have to use your super speed and get it on him."

"Yeah," Barry said. He looked down.

"You can't make it in time can you?" she said slowly.

"No."

"Is it that bad?"

"It's pretty bad."

"Well," Felicity said, "Can Oliver get him then?"

"He could kill him, but he can't get close enough to get the helmet on – he passes out before then."

Felicity was quiet for a moment. "That is a tricky meta."

Barry nodded.

"I mean, you could always –"

"I'm not killing him," Barry said, "he hasn't hurt anyone."

"Oh." Felicity looked up at him. "So what are you doing."

Barry looked up at her, his face deadpan. "Pain management."

She squinted at him. "Pain management? Is that some kind of Cisco code or –"

"Pain resistance training," Barry said.

Felicity just looked at him, confused for a second, then it dawned on her. Her eyes shot wide and then she was gaping. "Oh, no," she said, "He's not seriously doing this – he's seriously doing this, isn't he? Why are _you _doing this – Barry, I mean, God, that's not OK, that is definitely _not_ OK."

"Oliver's not fast enough to get him. I don't have enough pain tolerance to get him. Oliver's not exactly going to get super speed anytime soon, so I have to get a higher pain tolerance."

"There's got to be something else," Felicity said, "That's why he called me – oh, God, I'm so stupid of course that's why he called me because you're doing this stupid thing and he can't – Barry – Barry you need to stop this. It's not worth it. I've seen the scars Oliver has – the ones that he got in the process of getting that pain tolerance."

"I heal."

Felicity's face turned to a stony glare. She picked up her purse where she had left it forcefully. "When are you meeting him?" she asked.

Barry glanced at the clock. "About now."

"Good," she said, and marched out of the room. She came back in a minute later, "It is at Star Labs, right?"

Barry nodded. "Right," she said, and resumed her previous disposition, shutting the door forcefully behind her.

"What do you mean you didn't want to worry me?" Felicity shouted.

Oliver put his hands up. "I knew you'd react-"

"Of course I'd react this way! You're dissecting him!"

"I'm not –"

"What in the world made you think this was a good idea? No wonder he's having problems, you – you, idiot! What person in their right mind wouldn't be having problems, he's undergoing torture!"

"It's not –"

"Do you have any kind of idea the psychological –"

"That's why I called you!"

"I am not a therapist! I am a computer scientist! I can't rewire a brain!"

"It was the only –"

"I do not want to hear –"

"I was being gentle."

"How on God's earth do you call that –"

"Alright, wrong word – careful, I was being careful. Slow. Talking him through it."

"No amount of talk –"

At that point Barry turned from where he was standing next to Cisco, watching the argument unfold. He made his way over to Caitlin and sat down there instead. He didn't really want to hear anymore.

She was pouring something into a test tube when she looked over at him. He had his chin resting on his hands, staring at the table.

"How you doing?" she asked.

Barry just looked up at her.

"Right. Not good," she said.

He sighed. "I just want this whole thing over with."

"You know," she said, "It might actually help you to talk to him a little. I mean, he did go through a lot of the same stuff on that island."

Barry looked up again.

"Right. You don't want to hear it," she said.

Barry continued his staring at the table.

"You ready, Bar?" Oliver asked, walking towards him. Barry looked up. He hadn't even noticed that the screaming fest had ended.

"Yeah," he said. He followed Oliver through the door again. Felicity came walking up behind him.

"No," Oliver said when he noticed her coming.

"What?" she asked, "You asked me here."

"To talk. Not to come in while we're working," Oliver said.

Felicity crossed her arms.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "You'll freak out, which will make Barry freak out, which will just make things worse."

"I can stay calm," Felicity said.

Oliver gave her a look.

"Relatively."

"Felicity, this is not a good idea," Oliver said again.

"I'm staying," she said. The look on her face dared Oliver to disagree.

He just let out an exasperated sigh.

"Felicity," Barry said then. They both looked over at him. "I know you want to help but, maybe it would be good if it was just me and Oliver."

He couldn't help thinking of how he got during their sessions, once the pain started to get bad. His face was getting red.

"I won't freak out," she said, her voice hard.

"I know, but," he started.

"I know," she said, "you'll be in a lot of pain. You don't need to be embarrassed Barry it's a response to –"

"I know," Barry said, "But it gets bad sometimes."

"All the more reason why I should stay," she said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Oliver glanced over at Barry, then back to Felicity.

"You talk to Barry only. No saying anything to me about stopping or taking a break or anything, no matter what," Oliver said, "The minute you start freaking out, you have to leave."

"Got it," Felicity said, nodding.

"There'll be blood," Oliver said.

"I've seen enough of it with you, Oliver."

"Injuries – it'll look bad," he said, "You have to remember that Barry heals, and that we're doing all this for a reason."

"I can handle it," she said.

"Alright," Oliver said with another sigh. He turned to Barry. "Let's get started."

Barry's heart was already starting to pound, his hands getting clammy. Oliver went for the table. Barry followed him reluctantly. He stopped in front of the table. God, did he hate being restrained, the absolute helplessness of it. He did not want to get on that table.

He shot Oliver a look.

"It's to keep you from hurting yourself," Oliver said.

Barry scowled. He was pretty sure it was more so he couldn't run, but he stepped up to it. Oliver clicked the restraints in place. Felicity went to his other side while Oliver wheeled over a tray.

"We're going to do the shots again," Oliver said. Barry took a deep breath. He was already shaking. "Relax," he said, "I'm going to start slower this time."

Barry took in a shuddering breath as Oliver produced a knife – the knife. Barry was starting to hate them.

"Just a shallow cut," Oliver said, "And I'm going to put a powder on it. It'll burn, but only for a few seconds."

Barry felt something on his hand and turned to find Felicity, her fingers entwining with his. He tried to give her a smile, but his attention quickly went back to Oliver.

"Really shallow, Barry," Oliver said. He drew a line across his arm and Barry grimaced. Blood was barely beading up on the edges, though. "Now this is going to sting," he said. He had a napkin with some yellow flecks on it, and dabbed at Barry's arm.

It was a little more than a sting. The thing burned. Barry gasped and squeezed down on Felicity's hand, but the pain was gone in a second, and he was left panting, his body relaxing again.

"Doing good, Barry," Oliver said. He made another cut on Barry's arm, a little deeper this time, and repeated the process. There were a few more of those until Oliver moved onto a different powder. This one was brownish red and hurt worse and for longer. The pain quickly intensified, and after a few rounds with that Barry was covered in sweat, eyes closed and head back against the table.

Felicity grabbed one of the napkins from Oliver. She dabbed the sweat off his forehead. Barry opened his eyes, looking over. Felicity smiled at him. "Just relax," she said. She didn't know what else to say.

"We're going to move on to the shots now," Oliver said, "I'm starting with the same one we had before."

Barry's expression changed immediately. "Can't we just stick with the cuts," he said.

"Not this time, Barry."

"Just a few more," Barry tried.

"Gotta move forward. It'll just end up making this whole thing longer."

Barry squeezed his eyes shut again as Oliver moved with the shot to his arm. Felicity was holding his hand again.

"Don't tense up," Oliver said, "It'll only make it worse."

Barry forced himself to relax and then Oliver injected him.

It was the same searing pain as before. Even though it only lasted a couple minutes, when it was over Barry felt like it had been an hour. He was drenched in sweat again and he was heaving for breath. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Slow down, Barry," Felicity said, "You're OK. Just breathe."

She had the napkin on his forehead again, her movements gentle and slow, not sudden so as not to scare him.

Oliver was already getting the next one. Barry turned and saw the shot.

"Oliver," he said, his eyes pleading.

"Focus on Felicity," Oliver said.

"Barry, look over here," Felicity said.

But Barry was looking at Oliver and the shot. "Oliver, please."

"Barry," Oliver said, his tone more stern, "Felicity."

Barry turned his head and looked over and Felicity cupped his face in her hand, keeping his eyes on her. Oliver injected him with the next shot.

That one was worse. Definitely worse. Barry screamed, his whole body arching even with the restraints, trying desperately to get away. The pain was tearing through him. It felt like they were amputating his arm, like they were trying to rip it right off. His vision ran black and he was screaming.

The next thing Barry knew, he was opening his eyes and everything was spinning. Oliver was right in front of him, and when he realized Barry's eyes were open, he was pressing a water bottle to his lips.

"You passed out," Oliver said.

Barry gulped down the water. He felt exhausted.

"You have to stay awake," Oliver said.

"You've mentioned that," Barry croaked.

"You've got to breathe," Oliver said, "You either hyperventilate, or hold your breath, and you pass out as a result. Breathe in and out, nice and steady."

"Or you know, it might just be the pain," Barry muttered. He felt like shit. His whole body ached.

Oliver shook his head. "You've had worse."

Barry really wasn't sure about that.

Oliver already had another shot in his hand and Barry didn't want to look but he couldn't get his eyes off it. He was hyperventilating again.

Oliver paused, and looked at him. "Slower," he said.

Barry pulled his arm against the restraint. He didn't want to do this. He jerked his leg, and then pulled with his other arm. He couldn't move. He couldn't move and sweat broke out onto his forehead and he needed to be off of that table, he needed to be off of that table right now.

"Barry," Oliver said.

"Oliver," Barry said, "Let me off. Oliver let me off, you have to let me off."

He was panicking. His legs started to vibrate. The metal on the restraints shook, the whole table.

Oliver had the shot down. "Barry, look at me. Stop. Stop vibrating."

"I can't."

"Alright," Oliver said. He pushed the tray away. "Alright, Barry, we're gonna calm down a little first, alright?"

"Oliver, let me out," Barry said. He couldn't breathe. There were no restraints over his chest but there felt like there was one, crushing him. "You have to let me out."

"No, you're OK. We're going to get through this. Take a deep breath, Barry."

"Oliver –"

"It's OK. You're OK. Nothing's happening right now. Just relax." Oliver had his hand on his arm and he was rubbing back and forth but Barry's sight had gone tunnel vision and black dots were eating at the edges. He pulled at the restraints again and again.

Barry turned his head from side to side, eyes darting everywhere. Felicity was still holding his hand but his knuckles were bone white, and his face was pale.

"Barry," Oliver said, "You have to stop moving. Stop fighting. It's OK."

"I can't get out," Barry said, "I have to get out."

"No you don't. Felicity and me are right here. You're OK."

Barry whipped his head around to Felicity. "Felicity," he pleaded.

Felicity looked across at Oliver. She wanted nothing more than to make him tear of the restraints and get Barry in a giant hug but the look on Oliver's face was clear.

"You're having a panic attack," she said, "It'll pass. You're perfectly fine, physically. Nothing is wrong. You're not in danger, you can breathe fine. You just have to wait it out."

"No," he said. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Just let me off. Let me off, please, just for a few minutes."

"You can do this, Barry," Oliver said. His confidence was starting to waver though. He didn't want Barry to go through this but the kid was getting too scared of everything – he had to learn that it would be OK. His mind flashed back to something he'd read years ago – this kind of technique either worked great or made the fear that much worse. Oliver swallowed.

"Focus on breathing," Felicity said.

Barry pulled at the restraints again. He was still hyperventilating, but he was at least making an effort now to control his breathing. The breaths were getting slower.

"Barry," Oliver said, still with a hand on his arm, "I know you don't want to listen to me right now, but the fastest way to make it stop is to focus on breathing slowly, and to stop pulling against those restraints. Can you do that for me, Barry? I know its nerve racking and all you want to do is get out, but you'll calm down a lot faster if you just relax your muscles."

Barry gritted his teeth but he forced his arms to go still. He stopped pulling, stopped moving and vibrating. He was still for about five seconds, and then his body switched to trembling instead.

"That's really good Barry," Oliver said, "Keep going, deep breaths. Do you want some water?"

Barry hesitated and then nodded. Oliver brought the water bottle to his mouth again and he took a couple of sips. His head feel back against the table again.

It took him about another ten minutes to completely calm down. After that he felt exhausted.

"Barry?" Oliver said.

Barry opened his eyes and looked over at him.

"Are you ready for the next one?"

Barry closed his eyes again.

"Come on, Barry," Oliver said, shaking his shoulder. "I won't start if you're not ready, but if you are, it'll only end faster."

Barry grimaced and gave a tight nod to Oliver. Oliver injected the next dose.

LIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry had a pounding headache. His whole body still hurt, seemed to burn and ache and every once in a while he would turn the wrong way and a sharper spike of pain would flare up and he would freeze, another panic attack threatening to break. Oliver said he was only sore because he kept fighting the restraints so much but Barry swore it was the shots. He had his head in his hands, elbows against his knees and Felicity's hand was on his back. She wouldn't let him alone, wouldn't let him sleep like Oliver always did. Barry wasn't sure he could sleep anyway. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Actually, he wasn't really sure he didn't want Felicity there. He just wanted the pain to stop.

"You should eat something," Felicity said.

"I'll throw it back up," Barry said.

"Drink some water then. You're probably dehydrated after all that."

Barry shuddered.

They had adjusted the lighting, so it was dim but not dark, and there was a radio in the room now, which was softly playing music. They were trying to keep him calm, Barry realized.

"I don't think I can do much more of this," Barry said.

"Hopefully you won't have to," she said.

"I don't think I can do it again tomorrow."

"Yes you can. I know you can. I hope you don't have to but I know you can if that's what it takes. You're stronger than you think you are Barry."

"I'm not Oliver," he said.

"You don't have to be Oliver."

"I wouldn't have survived on that island."

Felicity paused. "Maybe not," she said suddenly. Barry looked up at her. "But you don't have to," she said, "and this – you'll do it, and you'll get through it, because this you do have to do, but also because you have me, and Oliver, and Caitlin and Cisco and Wells. You'll be OK."

"I don't want to, though."

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure you'd be crazy if you did."

Barry sighed. He put his head back down in his hands. Felicity kept rubbing circles on his back. He wasn't calm though, all of their subtle little tricks weren't working. He felt strung tight as a wire and the aching in his muscles was getting worse, his heartbeat thudding along.

"Barry," Felicity said softly, "tell me what you're feeling."

He shrugged.

"Come on, Barry, you have to talk to me. You'll feel better. I care about you Barry, don't shut us all out. Let me help."

Barry closed his eyes again. "My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest," he said quietly.

"You're nervous?"

Barry didn't say anything.

"Barry?"

"I'm… I don't know. I don't feel good."

"Do you feel like you did while you were having a panic attack?"

Barry shuddered.

"Do you want to talk about that?"

"No."

"How do you feel right now then? What's going on?"

"I… I don't know. I feel – I feel shaky."

"Shaky?"

"Yeah. Like, tense. I feel… like I can't stop. Like if I relax something bad will happen."

Felicity frowned. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you. I'm right here. You're safe."

"I know," Barry said, "It's just, everything is going too fast. Like, it's spinning in my mind and I can't make it stop."

"OK," Felicity said. "Take a deep breath, and tell me what's spinning then. What are you feeling?"

"I can't stop thinking about it, when I can't move, and just – the pain – and, and I'm helpless. I can't do anything, and he doesn't stop."

"Oliver's only trying to help."

"I know," Barry said, running his hands through his hair. "But it just – it doesn't feel like that when I'm begging him to stop and he's telling me he can't and it'll be alright except it's not because it _hurts_, it's too much."

"But it ends," Felicity said.

Barry took a deep breath. "Not fast enough."

"You're not hurt right now though," Felicity said. "Right now you're safe. You're OK."

"I just can't calm down."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

"My head just keeps spinning, Felicity. It feels like it's going to explode. I just want to sleep, to shut it all off but I'm afraid to sleep because I'll just have nightmares. I'm so tired, Felicity."

"What are the nightmares?"

Barry sucked in a breath. "I don't know – different things. I can't move in them. Sometimes I can't even talk. I keep trying to scream, but I can't. And he's got shots, or a knife, or the – the brands and I – it's always worse, it's not even Oliver it's just – he always says something – this is going to be the worst, or stay still, or this will hurt, or something, but no matter what he says I know it'll be the worst one yet, and I'll try to scream and get away but I can't move. I'm not on the table but it's like I'm just frozen and I can't even close my eyes – I can't even turn my head I just watch."

Felicity had moved up to his neck, moving her fingers through his hair. Barry was sucking in breath. Just thinking about the nightmares made his skin crawl, his heartrate kick up.

"It's OK, Barry. There just dreams."

"But it happens in real life too."

"Yes. But you're doing it for a reason. It's to help people, to stop a criminal."

"I know. That doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Why don't you lie down, Barry.

Barry tensed and paused, then shook his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," he said, "I just – I just need to have my feet on the ground."

"You need to be able to get away," Felicity said.

Barry looked away from her.

"Barry," Felicity said, "I think you should lie down."

"Felicity –" Barry started.

But Felicity was pulling on his arm and he was going sideways. He didn't like this, he didn't like this. But then his head was in her lap and he was looking up and he was tense all over, feeling vulnerable on his back and reached up and grabbed Felicity's arm. She peeled his fingers off her wrist and held his hand instead. He squeezed his eyes shut and Felicity kept playing with his hair.

"Shhh," she said, "You're OK. Relax. Everything's OK."

He wanted to get back up, but he was so tired. He didn't want to sleep, but his body ached and his mind wouldn't stop and Felicity had her fingers in his hair and that felt _good_. His grip on her hand relaxed, and slowly so did the muscles in his legs, and then his abdomen, and finally his arms and neck and shoulders as his body adjusted and no, actually nothing was going to jump out at him or stab him or inject him right then.

"Better," Felicity said, "Relax. Let someone take care of you for once. No metahumans, no psychotic killers, no thieves. Oliver's here if something happens. I'm right here too. I won't let you go through a nightmare. Just relax."

"I don't wanna sleep," Barry said. He was finally starting to calm down. He didn't want to fall into another nightmare right now, he didn't want to feel like he couldn't move with the terror like a knife in his stomach. He just wanted to stay with Felicity but he could feel the exhaustion seeping into him.

"You need to," Felicity said, "You're exhausted, and you'll feel so much better once you get some good sleep."

"I won't though."

"I think this time might be OK," she said.

"Why?"

She smiled at him. "Because I'm here. And I won't let you have any nightmares. Sleep."

Barry closed his eyes, but he didn't succumb to the sleep. But then Felicity was rubbing circles with her thumb on the back of his hand, and her fingers were in his hair and he felt _safe_. Oliver was there. He didn't need to be the hero of the city right now. And Felicity was with him. Barry didn't really plan to fall asleep, but somehow that's what happened anyway.

**So I love Felicity, but anyway, I know it's been a while so long one this time. I've got one more "session" planned and then Barry might just take on the thief again... Please let me know your thoughts! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

"I just really don't think it's a good idea, Oliver."

"Felicity, I told you that you could come in as long as you didn't say anything –"

"And I didn't. This is different."

Oliver sighed and turned around to face Felicity. Her expression shifted. "He's scared, Oliver."

"Anyone in their right mind would be," Oliver muttered, but the look on her face still sent a stab of guilt running through him. Was he doing the right thing? He could have gone and killed the guy anyway. He could have ignored Barry and let him hate him for the rest of his life. He could have lived with Barry hating him, knowing that he wouldn't have to put him through this ordeal. He couldn't live with the guilt though. Not his guilt, Barry's. He'd never forget it, that Oliver killed a man because he failed. Oliver sighed.

"He's not doing good," Felicity said, "And you know it."

"What do you want me to do?" Oliver asked. "He'll run. I know this is hard to watch, and trust me, I don't like it any more than you do, but you haven't felt what that guy can do. It's bad. If he wants to be able to withstand it then he's going to have to go through with this – and I can't do that if he runs away from me every time things start getting tough."

"Don't talk about him like this is his fault," Felicity snapped.

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not," he said, "that's not what I mean. He can't help it – I know that – that's why I have the table."

"If you want him to stop panicking, you have to stop using it," she said.

"He'll run," Oliver said.

"Then let him," she snapped.

"Felicity –"

"I know," she said, collecting herself again, "you can't. He can't help it. You have to stop him. He won't let you kill the guy. I just wish there was another way to do this." She looked up at him. "I mean, Oliver, you have to see it – his symptoms – he's already pretty much developing PTSD I mean, somewhere it has to be too much, it has to not be worth it anymore."

"It's worth it to Barry," Oliver said, "The guy hasn't hurt anyone, not physically. He just steals money."

"Ugh," Felicity said, banging her fist on a table. She hit it a little too hard by accident. "Ow, OK, note to self, don't do that."

"Barry won't do it, Felicity," Oliver said, ignoring her.

"Well, than he better show up again soon so Barry can get rid of him once and for all." Felicity paused. "Do you think he's good enough to catch him now?"

"Felicity," Oliver said, "If I knew that for sure do you think I'd ever be taking Barry into that room again?"

Felicity sighed. "All right. Just… this is dumb. It's awful. He looks awful."

"I know," Oliver said, "But he'll bounce back. This is Barry."

"Yeah," Felicity said, "I know, that's why I'm worried. You only bounce back so many times."

LIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEE

Barry didn't show up the next day. Caitlin, Cisco, Oliver, Felicity – they were all waiting. At four thirty they called his cell. At four forty five they called Joe. No, Barry wasn't in the lab, he'd gone home, and no, there were no crime scenes he could be at. Caitlin called Iris. She hadn't heard from him all day. Called Joe again. Yeah, he had been acting a little weird, but he'd been jumpy for a week or two now. It was almost five and Oliver was just about to leave to go check Barry's apartment when there was a rush and the papers went flying and then there was Barry, standing there, fiddling with his hands and his face a grey, ashen color.

"So, I'm late, like really late, I'm sorry, but I – I don't think I can do this today. I mean – tomorrow. I'll go right back to it tomorrow I just – I don't think – I was going to tell you I was sick but – well that's a dumb lie since I'm like Mr. Healing over here, and I just – I really can't do this today. I'll do it tomorrow, I promise – I'll get here right at four and go right in but it's just – I just can't –"

"Barry," Oliver said, "Calm down."

Barry was shaking, sweat beading up on his forehead and his face was plastered with fear.

"Yeah, well that's the thing, I really can't and um, I just think it'll be better if I wait until tomorrow."

"Barry," Caitlin said, "Why don't you sit down."

"No," he said, "I'm fine – I just – I'll do it tomorrow, I promise."

"Barry," Oliver said, "How about you go lie down for a little bit."

"No," he said. Panic burst out across his face.

"Barry," Oliver took a step towards him.

Barry was halfway across the room. "Don't – I can't – Oliver."

"It's OK," Oliver said, stepping back again. Barry cautiously walked forward again. His eyes were darting around. "Can Caitlin check you out, Barry?"

Barry shook his head. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I am."

"Can you talk to me, Barry."

"I am talking to you."

"Tell me what's going on, Barry. Why don't you want to do it today?"

"It's just too much."

"It'll be bad, but you'll get through it."

Barry shook his head again. "No."

"Barry –"

"No." And with that Barry was across the room again, speeding away, and then there was a distinctive thump and Barry was sprawled out on the floor next to the hallway entrance.

"Force field," Cisco said.

"When did you put in a _force field_?" Caitlin said.

"_Why _did you put in a force field?" Felicity added.

"I thought it might come in handy," Cisco said, "Apparently it does."

Barry banged his fist against the wall, then spread both hands flat against it. He was hyperventilating, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't get out – he needed to get out.

"Barry," Felicity said. She started to walk over to him, "Can we go sit down? Just us? Like yesterday?"

Barry turned around, panic stricken "Felicity I can't, I can't do it, I _can't_."

"OK," Felicity said, "But I don't want you going home like this. Come on, let's go talk, OK? We'll just sit for a little."

Barry hesitated and Felicity took his hand, then put one hand around at his shoulder and they walked through one of the opposite doors, through the training room, and into the little side one with the couch in it. Felicity closed the door behind them.

"Well," Caitlin said, turning to Oliver, "Looks like you made a good call on inviting Felicity over."

"Yeah," Oliver said, "Let's just hope she can work it out."

LIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

When Barry sat down on the couch he felt numb, exhausted and scared and numb. His mind was spinning again and he didn't want to leave now, was terrified of leaving that room with Felicity and going back out there where Oliver would strap him to a table and cut him up again. He was trembling.

But he was still pretty surprised when Felicity stuck a piece of twine into his hands and said "Untie all the knots."

Barry gave her a look, and she just gestured at the twine again. Barry thought she was crazy but he started untying the knots, of which there were _many_. It was mindless work, picking at the string and getting the knots out. By the time he finished almost ten minutes had passed and he was staring at the twine and realized his breathing was nearly even and he had stopped shaking.

"Thanks," he said, looking back up.

"You're welcome," Felicity said, taking it back from him. "Now tell me what's going on."

Barry shuddered. "I don't know I – it was time for me to go and I procrastinated I just – I'm always late and it takes me five seconds to get here so I just – I just waited a little bit – just fifteen minutes – and then – then I really didn't want to go and I waited another ten and then I panicked and I just – I just kept pacing and looking at the clock and thinking about how I had to go and how much I didn't want to go and then you guys called and Oliver was going to be mad and I was afraid – I was afraid it be worse and then I just… I just panicked after that."

"Alright," Felicity said, "Well, you don't need to panic. Oliver's not mad, and he definitely won't make it worse because you were late."

Barry cringed. "He's done it before."

"Not with something like this," Felicity said. She paused. "Wait, he didn't, did he? Because seriously I will kill him –"

"No," Barry said, "he hasn't, I was just afraid he would."

"Well he won't," she said, "I'll make sure. I mean, I don't think he'd do it anyway, but I'll make sure he absolutely doesn't."

"OK," Barry said. He crossed his arms like he was cold, looking at the ground.

"Do you feel OK now?"

"Y- yeah, I guess."

"Shaky?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to lie down?"

"No."

"Feet on the ground?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to go back now?"

"No."

Felicity paused. "You will have to go back eventually."

Barry covered his face. "I don't want to do it today."

"I know," Felicity said, "But you never know, the thief could show up tomorrow, and you have to be ready."

Barry groaned. "I _really_ don't want to do it today. I can't keep doing this, Felicity, it's too much."

Felicity put her hand on his back again. "What would make it better?"

"I don't know," Barry said, "If he didn't tie me down. If there were more breaks. If he stopped when I asked him to."

Felicity frowned. She couldn't change any of those things. "Those are –"

"I know," he said.

"Well what about afterwards?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's… I guess it's better when you stay with me. Sometimes I just… I don't know."

"OK," she said. Then an idea struck her. "What if we did something fun afterwards!"

Barry looked up at her. "I don't usually feel like doing anything afterwards."

"I could get ice-cream," she said, "Blankets. TV. What's your favorite movie?"

"I don't know," Barry said, "I think ice-cream will make me sick."

She frowned at him. "Alright, do you want to go somewhere? Movies? Zoo? Museum?"

He shook his head.

"A bar?"

"I can't get drunk."

"How about the mall? I'll make Oliver buy you whatever you want."

"I don't really feel like going anywhere," he said.

She frowned at him again. "You're not helping here."

He shrugged.

"Alright, well, I'll think about that, how about before the session, so you know, no repeats of today."

Barry tensed. "I don't know," he said, "I just – I try not to think about it."

"OK, well how about you come here an hour early, and we'll just, hang out."

He hesitated.

"I'll lock the door, and if you want to procrastinate, I will give you a half hour of leeway."

"OK," he said.

"Do you want to go back now?"

"No."

"I'll sit with you again afterwards, and I'll see if Cisco can find some ice cream."

"It'll make me –"

"Sick. You know, I don't think ice cream counts, ice cream is good for the soul."

Barry huffed. "Tell that to my stomach while I'm trying not to puke."

"Well, we'll see."

She paused, and Barry kept staring at the floor, until the silence stretched. He looked back up, his face pained. "You want me to go out now, don't you?"

Felicity gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You're not panicking. You're OK. It's time to go."

He gave her another pleading look.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on." She grabbed his hand and dragged him off the couch and Barry sulked after her, going back out. She told him to wait in the training room and she'd get Oliver.

Barry waited, and couldn't help thinking that was a bad move on her part. His mind started to wander again. He looked over at the table and tensed, clenching and unclenching his hands. A minute later Oliver came in, Felicity right behind him.

"Alright," Oliver said. He didn't make any mention to the little fiasco before. "We're doing the shots again today."

Barry's frown deepened, but he wasn't sure what he expected. At this point there wasn't really a preferred choice.

"But we're going to do it a little differently."

Barry tensed up all over again, his eyes darting from Oliver to Felicity. Different? Different how? A million scenarios flashed in front of his eyes, and none of them looked good.

"I'm not going to use any restraints."

Barry froze.

"No – none?" he asked.

"None."

For a second, his whole body relaxed, a huge weight lifting from his mind. No restraints. No table. No being held down, no not being able to move, no having no control, no helplessness.

Then it slowly started to sink in.

"Last time you said that you shot me with an arrow," he said. Barry looked at Oliver, but he didn't have his bow, and he said he was using the shots. Barry started to fidget restlessly.

"No arrows, I promise," Oliver said.

"Then what are we doing?" Barry asked. He was hesitant now. At least when he was tied down he knew what Oliver was going to do. He was swarming with anxiety.

"Um, yeah, what exactly are you doing?" Felicity asked.

Oliver turned to her and smiled. "I'm letting him run."

Felicity just looked at him confused, and Oliver pointed to one side of the room, where there was the characteristic tray filled with shots and serums and things Barry didn't want to think about. Oliver turned to him.

"I'm going to be over there, and I'm going to inject you with the serum. Once I do, you're going to run to the opposite side of the room." Oliver pointed to where there was another tray and a couple of chairs. "Felicity will be there, and she'll have the antidote. As soon as she injects you with it, the pain will stop. Probably fairly instantaneously with your healing." Oliver paused again. "If you make it, you get five minutes to relax before the next one. If you don't make it, then you have to go through however long the serum lasts, and you won't get a break in between shots."

"How long will the serum last?" Barry asked.

"The first one, two minutes. The others, I'm not entirely sure with you. One will probably be five, the other ten. That's what I'm guessing."

"Um excuse me, and I'm supposed to be giving him a shot? Shouldn't you get Caitlin to do that."

"You know how to give a shot," Oliver said, "Just stick him in the arm."

"That's comforting," Barry muttered.

"But I don't know which one –"

"I've got them all set up. They're labeled. I'll tell you which to use."

"OK," Felicity said.

"Alright," Oliver said, motioning to Barry, "Let's get started."

**Next chapter soon :) Hope you liked this one**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, sorry it's been so long - hopefully next update sooner. Anyway, enjoy :)**

"Don't run until after I give you the shot," Oliver said. He had his hand on Barry's arm and Barry was tense, already sweating. "You don't want the needle to break inside you because you run before I finish injecting you."

Well wasn't that a pleasant thought.

Barry nodded. He wiped his hands on his pants. They were clammy. He looked across the room, and it suddenly seemed a very long way.

_I can do this, _he thought, _get to Felicity. Get the antidote. It will only be a few seconds of pain that way._ He could do this.

"Ready?"

Barry nodded, taking a deep breath, eyes trained on Felicity.

He felt the stab of the shot, carefully waited that extra second for Oliver to pull it out, and then he took off.

And crumpled to the ground.

Barry screamed and tore at his arm, thrashing on his back at the pain. He was only a few feet away from Oliver. He forgot all about Felicity, all about the antidote, all about everything except the pain. It hurt, it hurt so bad and he couldn't do anything except yell and writhe on the floor.

When it finally stopped he was panting, lying on his back and staring as the ceiling came back into focus. His body seemed to buzz, the pain melting away and his muscles going limp at the sudden relief.

"Come on, Barry," Oliver said, and there was a hand on his wrist and he was being dragged upright. Barry stumbled, and Oliver had him back the few feet he had made and then Barry saw the next shot and he panicked.

"Oliver, no, wait," he said, but Oliver had a firm grip on his wrist, not letting go.

"You get a break if you make it across," he said. He looked up at Barry. "Concentrate, Bar, focus on Felicity. You can do this. Run through the pain and it will be over so much faster."

"Oliver, I can't – I can't." His voice escalated as Oliver brought the shot up to his arm. Barry kept struggling and Oliver stopped, his voice going deadly hard.

"Barry," he said, "If you keep fighting me, I'm going to have to put you back on the table. You need to cooperate. Concentrate. Stop fighting me and focus on what you have to do."

Barry cringed and he wanted to cry, just didn't want that pain to come back when he just got rid of it. He wanted to run away, out the door, but then Oliver stuck him with the shot again.

He took off. Made it maybe ten feet this time. Then he fell to the floor.

His vision swam and pain shot down his arm, through his chest, across his sides. He looked up on his hands and knees. _Focus. Focus, Barry_. He stumbled up. Get to Felicity. Felicity would make the pain stop. He stumbled a couple more steps. The pain reached his legs and he screamed and fell again. _Get up, get up._ He was crawling, desperately trying to get across, but this wasn't working. He forced himself to stand, was walking, stumbling, and then running.

Somehow he was on his hands and knees again on the other side and Felicity was right over him and he felt a dart of pain and then –

He collapsed on the ground, rolling to his back. The pain melted away again, much faster this time, all gone at once. Barry breathed deeply through his mouth, crossing one hand over his stomach. Oh, God, he was happy that was over. He closed his eyes and didn't dare move. A hard floor had never felt so comforting.

He felt hands in his hair and on his arm and realized Felicity had knelt down next to him.

"That was good, Bar, really good. You did a great job," she said. Barry didn't feel like he did a great job, but he wasn't going to complain because the pain was replaced with Felicity and he was lost in the soothing feeling of her playing with his hair and rubbing gentle circles over his arm.

It seemed like seconds when he heard footsteps, and then the shadow of Oliver crouching next to him, but it had to be five minutes because Oliver was gently telling him it was time to go again.

"Come on, Bar," Oliver said, "Why don't you take a drink and then we'll have you try that one again.

Barry grimaced and opened his eyes and he _did no_t want to do that again.

Oliver must have seen the look on his face because his tone got harder and his face was back to that stern expression. "Barry," he said, "don't fight me on this. If you don't come back when it's done, I won't give you any breaks."

Barry wanted to punch him. But he got up, slowly – very slowly, but he got up, took a sip of water, and walked back, trudged back, after Oliver.

"Same one?" Barry asked, eyeing the shot.

"Same one," Oliver said. "You can do it. You almost got it that time. Just keep going. Stay focused."

Barry fell once that time. After a couple seconds on the ground he was able to get up and run to Felicity. The next time he made it straight across. He did it again, stumbled in the beginning, but ran the rest of the way. That's about when he started to relax.

This was something he could handle. His body was getting the message – there would be a quick, sharp onslaught of pain, but if he ran, it would stop. After a couple more tries, he was running straight to Felicity each time – no stumbling, no falling. He would run, Felicity would inject him with the antidote, and then he would sit in the chair or lie on the ground and sip water and relax for a few minutes. This, he could handle. Just a few seconds of pain, followed by long minutes of relief.

Barry walked back to Oliver when he called him. But as he watched Oliver was taking a new vial.

"What's that?" Barry asked, anxiety breaking out all over again.

"We're moving up to the next one," Oliver said.

Barry froze and he had a flash of the day before and the second shot that time and he took a step back.

Oliver looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're doing really good, Barry," he said, "you'll do fine with this one too."

"I passed out when you gave me that."

"You passed out the first time I gave you that," Oliver corrected him, "And you were panicking. You're not panicking now, and don't let yourself start. You're OK. You can do this – you just have to focus."

"How many more?" Barry asked.

"Depends how you do with this."

"Can you give me a number?" Barry asked, "Just – please – something to count down from."

Oliver sighed. "Alright. Ten, and then we're going to do one of the next one. If you do well with it though, we'll do less."

Barry took a deep breath and nodded. Ten. He could do that. Ten wasn't such a scary number. Ten times. Maybe less.

"OK," he said.

Oliver took his arm again. "Remember," he said, "Focus. Run. It'll hurt – but you can make it stop. You just have to get to Felicity."

He could make it stop. He was in control. He could do this. Oliver pressed down on the shot.

He didn't make it three feet.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry pushed his hands through his hair and twisted away. He was trying not to cry, trying not to scream and he felt bad, because Felicity shouldn't have to deal with him like this, but he couldn't stop.

"Shhh," she said, trying to console him, trying to get him to relax and calm down. They were back in the room, done for the day. Barry felt like someone jammed a red hot poker through his head. It was pounding and he could still feel the pain everywhere. He had been wrong. Ten was too much, ten was way too much.

He shuddered and gasped and he couldn't sit still. Felicity had her hands on his shoulders, on his arms. _Relax, Barry. It's OK, Barry. It's over, Barry. _He couldn't breathe.

"Hey," she said, "hey, look at me."

Barry turned, tried to look, but his eyes kept darting – kept darting everywhere. Oliver had stayed with him for a bit this time, telling him he did good and it was OK now and it was OK if he was upset, if he cried or yelled or wanted to punch Oliver a couple times, but Barry didn't want to cry or yell, just wanted it to stop, and he couldn't bring himself to hit Oliver when he knew he was only trying to help, even if he maybe wanted to beat the shit out of him a little bit.

"It's OK," Felicity said, "You're OK."

Barry shuddered and he wanted to get away, didn't want to do this anymore, didn't want to be the Flash responsible for stopping metahumans, just wanted to be Barry Allen for a little bit.

"I can't do this," he said.

"Yes you can," Felicity said steadily, "You're doing great."

"No, I'm not," Barry said, shuddering again, "I can't make it through one session without going to pieces – I can't think straight, can't sleep, can't focus – I'm not – I'm just not ready for this, not this fast, this much. I'm not strong enough – not good enough."

"Barry," Felicity said gently, "Oliver's _trying_ to make you go to pieces. He's pushing you past your breaking point on purpose – it's not that you aren't doing well enough, or you're failing or something – Oliver doesn't stop _until_ you're a mess. It's how you're getting better."

"Well I don't like it," Barry said.

Felicity had to smile. "You're not supposed to like it. The point is, you can do this. But you need to stop telling yourself that you can't – you're going to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. You're perfectly capable of doing this – Oliver wouldn't have suggested it if he thought you couldn't. You can do it, no matter how awful and painful and miserable it is."

"Couldn't he just make it a little less awful and painful and miserable?" Barry muttered.

"I'll let him know your suggestion," Felicity said. Barry huffed.

"Couldn't we just make it every other day?"

"You know why you can't."

Barry hugged his arms around himself. "I feel like I'm drowning, Felicity," he said quietly.

"I know," she said, "but it's going to be OK."'

"It doesn't feel like it."

"You've gotta take it one day at a time, Barry."

Barry was shuddering again and he just wanted it to stop. "I can't even do that."

"Just slow it down, Barry – don't take everything so fast. Focus on now, not on an hour ago, not on tomorrow. Just now."

Barry stared at his shoes. "Right now I feel like I can't breathe and I can't stop shaking and everything hurts," he said.

Felicity frowned. "You shouldn't be in pain right now."

Barry moved his palms over his knees. "Feels like needles everywhere. And my head's pounding."

"Maybe we should have Caitlin check you out."

Barry closed his eyes and leaned back, scrunching up his face. "Please don't make me go out there."

"Well, if you're in pain maybe the shots are leaving a residue or something."

"I really, really, really don't want Caitlin to stick me with a bunch of needles right now."

"OK," Felicity said, "But if it keeps up, you're going to have to let her take a look."

Barry groaned.

"Oh, come on," Felicity said, "A couple of blood tests and some scans – that's nothing you can't handle."

Barry was shaking again. "I'm not so sure of that right now."

"Well I am," Felicity said, "And you'll be fine either way."

"You have way too much faith in me."

"Don't start. I'm sick of your self-depreciating comments. You're being terribly, extremely brave and you need to realize that and give yourself some credit."

"Feels like I'm being terribly extremely stupid."

"Well you're that too, but we're focusing on the good attributes right now."

That got a short laugh out of him and Felicity counted it as a win. Barry still looked miserable but the shaking and fidgeting had settled down to sporadic trembling.

"What do you want to do, Barry?" Felicity asked.

"I don't know."

"I have ice cream."

"I don't want ice cream, Felicity."

"Everyone likes ice cream."

"Felicity."

"Alright – soup? How about soup?"

"I don't want food."

"Alright, well, I've got a laptop and a Netflix account."

"I think I just want to sleep."

"OK," Felicity said.

But Barry didn't make any move to lie down, still sitting up, hunched over with his elbows on his knees.

"You know, usually people lie down when the want to sleep."

Barry hesitated. "I – I just –"

"Right," Felicity said. She took his shoulder and pulled. He leaned back and she grabbed a pillow so his head was resting against her leg. Barry still had one leg draped over the side of the couch, tense. "Come on, up, Barry. It's alright."

Barry lifted his leg onto the couch. He shuddered again.

"I don't want any more nightmares," he said softly.

"If you have a nightmare, I'll wake you up," Felicity said, "and I'll be right here."

"OK," Barry said. He grabbed a blanket, pulled it over him, but he kept shuddering, squirming around.

"Relax, Barry," Felicity said, "get some sleep. I'll be right here."

There was a long pause and then Barry trembled again. "Felicity," he said. His voice was uncharacteristically small sounding. "Could you um, this is going to sound really dumb – actually it is really dumb, and kind of embarrassing, but you know, I figure you've seen me break down enough by now that I can't really do anything that could top that embarrassment and um, anyway, could you, uh, maybe just, play with my hair, a little bit? If it's OK, I mean, and – God, that sounds really weird – but, it – it's just it kind of helps and I don't –"

"Barry," Felicity said, shaking her head, smiling. "It's fine. I can do that."

Barry's face was a little red. "Thanks, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Felicity said, trailing her fingers through his hair, "I'll do whatever you need me to. It's Ok – I like this too when I'm upset."

Barry took in a deep breath. "Thanks, Felicity." Felicity could already see him calming, staring to relax some of those muscles.

"Just relax," Felicity said, "Get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the wait, got sidetracked. Anyway, I'm pretty sure this is fairly medically/psychologically impossible, or at least extremely rare - i can't find a lot of information on it. Either way, MarissaTodd you semi-predicted and semi-prompted this chapter so thank you! I had been thinking about it, but finally decided to make it happen here. Another giant thank you to everyone who's been reviewing - i absolutely love reading all your comments and thoughts, and you inspire me to keep writing when I get bogged down in the shortcomings and problems in my stories - so thank you all so much! Hope you like this one :)**

Barry couldn't concentrate. The thief had struck again, but it was at night this time. By the time anyone called him about it, he was too late to get to the scene. Another bank this time.

He was at work now, case files in front of him and evidence to go through and he was just staring. The words blurred in front of him and he was exhausted. After waking up for the robbery, he hadn't been able to get any real sleep. Instead he tossed and turned and dozed a few times until nightmares woke him up.

He had a pounding headache. It had never really gone away from yesterday. His back hurt too. He didn't know what he did to it – probably slept on it the wrong way but it was a stabbing pain that ached and burned when he moved the wrong way. Every once in a while it shot down his arm. He was trying to ignore it, but it seemed like every little twitch brought on another stab and it felt increasingly, alarmingly like the shots, until he was sitting absolutely still, afraid to move.

The door opened but Barry was still staring down. He heard footsteps, then Eddie's voice.

"Hey, Barry, I've got the files for the next case – and Singh's wondering when that evidence report will be done."

Barry forced himself to look up. Pain shot down his neck. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Yeah," he said, "yeah, I'll get that."

Eddie looked at him oddly. "You know when you'll be finished?"

"Um," Barry tried to think. His hand was gripping the desk, knuckles white. Pain buzzed down his arm. "Yeah… soon, give me – give me an hour."

Eddie put one hand on his desk, tilting his head. "Are you alright there, Barry?"

"Yeah," Barry said. His tongue felt thick in his mouth, like he couldn't get the words out. His voice had shrunk in his throat. He reached for the case file, taking a deep breath.

"_Arrrgghhh_," Barry yelled through his teeth, curling inward, almost doubling over, at the shock of pain, red hot and shooting up his arm, eyes squeezing shut. His mouth screwed to a grimace and he was breathing fast, way too fast.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Eddie was leaning over him.

"Whoa, hey, Barry, what's wrong? What's going on?"

All Barry could do was sit there and hyperventilate, staying entirely still now. His arm was still burning but he was terrified of making it worse, of making that fire shoot down his limb again.

"Barry," Eddie said, "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Hurts," Barry got out. He was shaking now. He felt dizzy.

"What hurts? What did you do?"

"Arm," Barry said. He screwed his eyes shut again. He thought he was going to throw up. "Back."

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No."

The pain started creeping into his other arm and Barry started breathing faster. Dread circled in his gut. It was in his chest, every breath hurt, like it was wrapped around his ribs. It was making his stomach churn. He could just feel it spreading inside him, entangling his veins and squeezing down on the bones.

"Think you can walk?"

"No."

"Does your stomach hurt anywhere? Your sides? Your chest?"

Barry nodded slightly. His vision was tunneling out.

"I'm going to call an ambulance, Barry."

"No."

"Unless you know what this is, you need to get to a hospital."

"No, I can't," Barry took in a shuddering breath. Even that sent pain down his body. "I have to… Star labs."

"Where?"

"Joe… or, call Caitlin."

"Joe just left, where's your phone."

Barry just looked across the table where it was lying. Eddie got up and grabbed it. He scrolled through.

"Call Caitlin," Barry said, "Tell her… tell her I don't know… it… hurts, everything." His voice was getting higher, almost squeaking and he couldn't get the breath to get it out. Eddie was dialing and then he was talking but Barry didn't hear what he said until he went "Alright, I'm putting it on speaker," and set the phone down next to Barry, leaning over next to him.

"Hey, Barry, it's Caitlin."

"Hi," he managed.

"Can you tell me how it started? Cisco's on his way to get you right now."

"It…" he can't think, "I… headache, and then… then my back." Oh, God, it was getting worse. He closed his eyes. He was going to scream.

"OK, Barry, can you take a deep breath for me? You sound like you're hyperventilating. Can you calm down? Are you panicking?"

Barry shuddered out a breath. "Can't breathe."

"Eddie?" Caitlin's voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch.

"He's breathing fine," Eddie said, into the phone. He turned back to Barry. "You're breathing fine," he repeated, "try and slow it down. You're going too fast – it's not going to help the pain."

But Barry couldn't stop, and everything was spinning and he didn't know what to do.

"Barry, you still there?"

"Y-yeah."

"You said it started with a headache, and then your back, and now it's everywhere?"

"Yeah."

"What does the pain feel like, Barry, can you try and concentrate on it for a minute?"

"Feels like the shots."

Caitlin was quiet for a second. "OK, Barry, Cisco's almost there – can you lie down somewhere? Is there anywhere you can lie down?"

"Can't move."

"Does it hurt to move?"

"Yeah."

"OK, I need you to try, Barry, can you do that?"

"Cait – I – I"

"It's alright. Can you stand up, Barry? Can you try and stand up."

"No."

"I need you to try, Barry – it's going to help, I promise."

"I can't – I can't move."

"OK – Eddie's going to help you, alright? Just stand up."

Eddie had a hand on his back and the other on his shoulder but Barry was rock solid.

"No."

"Barry," Caitlin said, "I promise you if you do what I say the pain will go down. I need you to try for me."

"Come on, Bar, right here," Eddie said. He was gently guiding Barry upwards and Barry felt his arms come down, braced against the desk and he was lifting up from the chair, standing. Pins and needles shot down his legs, burnt their way through his arms.

"How is that, Barry?" Caitlin asked.

Barry didn't answer, was breathing too fast, trying to understand the sensations going up and down his limbs, painful but not more so.

"He's up," Eddie said. He grabbed the phone.

"OK, I want you to walk a few paces, Barry, OK?"

Barry wouldn't move until Eddie nudged him and then he was taking a step. He stopped short, pain exploding again. Caitlin heard the change in his breathing.

"It's alright, Barry, take another step. It'll go away, I promise. Keep walking. Cisco's at the station."

Barry took a couple more steps. The pain was sliding over him, and although he was still nauseous and breathing too hard, the pain was dissipating for a stinging, pins and needles feeling instead. Cisco burst through the door.

"Hey," Cisco said, walking briskly over to them. "Oh man, let's get you out of here."

LLLLLIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Barry lay on the bed, his face totally expressionless. Caitlin was running tests to make sure, but by the time they got to Star labs the pain was mostly gone. She said it was a neurological response, probably linked to PTSD and caused by all the sessions he was having with Oliver. Caitlin couldn't find anything physically wrong.

Barry was numb. He had shut his mind off, staring at the ceiling while Caitlin did scans and blood tests and checked all his vitals. It was about twenty minutes later when Oliver arrived.

"Hey," he said. He walked up to his bed and in an uncharacteristically gentle voice he said, "Heard you had a rough day."

Barry didn't look over. "That's one way of putting it."

Felicity walked up behind Oliver.

"We brought you take-out."

"Not hungry."

Oliver shot a glance at Caitlin. It read very clearly. _How bad is this?_

Caitlin just took in a long breath, adjusted a monitor to Barry's right.

"You want to talk about it, Barry?" Oliver asked quietly.

"No."

"It might help."

"I don't want to talk."

"Do you want something to drink – hot chocolate?" Felicity asked.

"I'm fine."

"I have my laptop," she said, "what about a movie? I could get you a book or something?"

"It's fine, Felicity."

"Well it most definitely is not fine," Felicity muttered under her breath. She shot a very pointed look at Oliver.

Oliver for his part was looking fairly worried. He reached out and put his hand on Barry's arm.

"Hey," he said, "let yourself relax. Don't stay stuck in your head. What do you want, Barry? What do you need?"

"I don't need anything," Barry said. His voice was flat and raw.

"We're not going to train today, Barry," Oliver said.

"OK."

The absolute indifference in his voice struck Oliver worse than any scream. "Can you tell me what happened, Barry?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Can you do it anyway?"

"No."

Oliver looked over to Caitlin. "Are you almost done with everything?"

"Yeah," she said, "that's it. I'll get this stuff off you, Barry."

Felicity leaned over the bed. "Do you want to go lie down somewhere else, Barry?" she asked gently.

He shook his head.

"Not even to go home? I'll go with you back to your apartment if you want."

"Don't want to get up."

"Why not?"

"I don't wanna move."

Felicity frowned. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," he said. He moved his hand a little bit, as if to check. "Just don't wanna move."

Oliver took a deep breath. "Do you want us to call someone, Barry? Iris, maybe?"

Barry shook his head again. His eyes kept flitting in and out, going glazed over and then coming back again.

"Alright," Oliver said, his hand still on Barry's arm. "Is it alright if we stay here with you? Do you want to be alone?"

Barry shrugged.

Oliver opened his mouth, about to say something when the doors burst open. Everyone turned to see a very angry Joe walking towards them.

"You did _what_ to my son?"

The question was to Cisco, who was walking briskly beside him, apparently having met him in the halls, but Joe was looking at all of them, particularly Oliver.

"You," he said, "have better got a damn good explanation for this, Queen."

Oliver put his hands up, getting ready to defend himself, but Joe went right by him. "We will have a very, very long _chat_ about this later," he said, and then he was at Barry's side.

"Don't kill him, Joe, I told him to do it," Barry said.

"I don't care what you told him," Joe said, "how are you feeling, Barry?"

"Like shit."

"Eddie told me what happened. You doing OK? Sounded pretty terrifying from how he described it."

"Yeah," Barry said. There was a flicker in his eyes.

"You feel better now, though?"

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me what's going on in that head – I can't read your mind. How do you feel?"

"Feel numb," Barry muttered.

"You don't need to block things out," Joe said, "you're all better now. Pain's gone."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to go home? Watch some TV, I'll make you lunch."

"I don't wannna move."

"Do you really want to stay here?"

Barry's eyes flickered again. "No," he said, resigned.

"Alright, well then you're gonna have to move, bud," Joe said, "unless you want me to get a stretcher and load you in the back."

Barry almost smiled at that.

"I could do it," Joe said, raising his hands, "But it might be easier if you just walked."

Barry let out a long breath and then started to sit up slowly. He stopped once he was all the way up, swaying a little bit.

"You alright there, son?" Joe asked.

"Dizzy."

"Alright, let it clear."

Barry got down a minute later. Joe put an arm around his shoulder. "Alright, Bar, let's go."

They started walking out and Joe turned his head. He shot a look at them that was both angry and extremely worried, clearly stating that he would be back later. For now though, he led Barry outside and to the car to take him home.

**About to get an influx of more characters to the scene. Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading :) **


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright, this one gets a bit bad, you've been warned.**

"You mean to tell me, you have been _torturing_, my son."

"Mr. West –"

"Oh, no, not _torture_, just _pain management_, which just so happens to consist _of torture!_"

"It's really –"

"Don't you think that boy has enough problems! No, because you weren't there for the panic attacks after his mother died, were you? You weren't there when he ran away every other afternoon to sneak into Iron Heights – you weren't there with the aftermath of a child whose mother was murdered and father falsely convicted, and now you want to force him to endure more pain – pain that will leave, and is obviously _already leaving_, lasting psychological damage!"

If Felicity had ever seen Oliver look intimidated, it was now, and that was not an easy task.

"Detective West, what Oliver was trying to say is that we don't have any other way to catch the thief – and Barry agreed to this," Wells cut in.

"I don't care if he agreed," Joe said, turning on Wells, "if he agreed to sacrifice himself by throwing himself off a bridge I still wouldn't let him _do_ it."

"This isn't a matter of life or death," Wells said, "although there are obvious detrimental effects to this kind of training, I'm confident Barry will make a full recovery."

"Are you?" Joe said. He turned to Caitlin and Cisco. "You two can't really be OK with this?"

Caitlin let out a long sigh. "I don't like it. I don't like it at all, but I can't come up with an alternative option, and Barry was pretty adamant."

"He hasn't been so lately," Felicity muttered.

But Joe heard it and he spun again. "Not lately? What does that mean?" He turned to Oliver. "So help me God, Queen, if you so much as touched him against his will –"

"I never forced him to come train," Oliver said, "he's always come on his own."

Joe did not exactly look satisfied with the answer.

"Look," Oliver said, "I offered to kill the guy – Barry wouldn't let me. He hasn't hurt anyone, so Barry can't justify killing him. If you hadn't raised such a stubbornly moral kid then this wouldn't be a problem."

"For once I wish he could be just a little cold-hearted."

"Well he's not," Oliver said. He raised his hands. "It's a terrible situation, but what do you want me to do? I mean, if you have a better idea then please tell us." Oliver locked eyes with him. "I don't enjoy this, Detective. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd carry it around for the rest of his life I would have gone off and shot the guy a long time ago, regardless of what Barry thought."

"That is both reassuring and highly alarming," Joe said.

"That's the best I can give," Oliver said.

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Barry walked into Star Labs at three fifteen. Felicity was waiting for him. They sat down and watched some TV. Felicity chatted aimlessly and watched as Barry got more and more tense, watching the clock. When it was four o'clock she turned to him.

"Are you ready to go out?"

Barry shook his head. That edge of panic was back. "No," he said.

Felicity took his arm, squeezed reassuringly, "It's OK. We can stay in here for a few more minutes."

Barry nodded but he kept looking at the clock, fidgeting and tapping his foot and wringing his hands.

"Alright," Felicity said ten minutes later, "how about now?"

Barry let out a long shaky breath.

"Barry," she said, "you're just working yourself up more."

"OK," he said, "OK, let's go." He got up and they walked out. Oliver was waiting.

"Let me see your hand," Oliver said when they reached him. He wasn't near the table today, instead he had another table set up, this one just a regular, standard steel medical table.

"Why?" Barry asked.

"I need to show you something," he said.

Barry raised his hand and Oliver took it. He took a thin piece of what looked like wood and brought it over to Barry's hand.

"No, no, no, I know what that is!" Barry said, instantly pulling away. Oliver held tight.

"I want you to feel it," he said, "Just a little bit now – we're not starting yet."

"It's going to hurt," Barry said, cringing as he watched Oliver start placing the sliver, "I know it's going to hurt – why do I have to feel it?"

"So you'll know what you'll be dealing with."

"You're going to do this?" Barry asked, somewhat horrified. He jerked his hand back again. "Oliver, no – my nails don't grow back that quick – you can't –"

"Relax," Oliver said, "wait for me to explain."

Oliver had the sliver of wood, probably bamboo, Barry realized, under his fingernail on his middle finger. Oliver picked up a tool and gently tapped it in farther.

"OWW – _oww_, stop – OK, it hurts, it hurts, hypothesis confirmed, please stop."

Oliver tapped again and Barry jerked back. The form of de-nailing was supposed to be extremely painful but Barry really hadn't anticipating the immediate sharp, shocking pain.

Oliver removed the bamboo sliver and Barry jerked his hand back, instantly cradling it in his other.

"Now that that's done," Oliver said, and he moved a tray around from the other side. Barry was going to cry.

The brands were back, and Barry had an awful feeling in his stomach about this. "I'm letting you have control," Oliver said.

Barry blinked at him. He looked at the brands waiting for him. "How exactly is that control?"

"You need to go through fifteen minutes worth of brands. You have thirty minutes to get that done. Every minute you go over that is a minute I'll spend with those." He gestured to the slivers of wood and hammer.

Barry cringed. "Fifteen minutes?"

Oliver patted the table. Barry walked over and sat up on it. He watched Oliver heating the brands.

"I choose the size and the heat," he said, and then he pulled out a stop watch and handed it to Felicity. "You tell me when to put it on you and when to take it off. Felicity will time how long you have it on your skin. If you make it that long, then you'll have to trade it for a new one once it cools."

Felicity took the stop watch. Oliver placed a small digital clock on the tray next to him. "Thirty minutes," Oliver said, "I suggest you try very hard to make it in that time frame."

Barry felt sick. Oliver pressed start on the digital clock. It started counting down from thirty. Then Oliver brought the first brand over.

"You know these things make me nervous," he said, looking at the red hot iron.

"That's why we're working with them. You get to decide."

Barry just nodded at Oliver, braced himself. He still wasn't ready for the pain.

He jerked away immediately. It was only on his skin for a second. He was already breathing hard.

He closed his eyes and tentatively moved back. He felt the brand hard on his skin, burning away. He started shaking, trying to endure it for as long as he could. He knew Oliver would only start making them bigger, hotter, he needed to rack up minutes now.

But oh God, it _hurt_. Barry pulled away again, almost against his will. He looked up at Oliver, shaking.

"It might be easier," Oliver said, "if you lie down. You won't be able to pull away as easy – so you won't just jerk backwards. All you have to do is tell me to stop and I'll take it away."

Barry nodded and he did not want to lie down but the thought of Oliver sticking those things under his nails had his skin crawling, his stomach tying itself up in knots. He had to do this, he told himself, he had to do this. Barry lay down and Oliver approached him with another brand. Barry nodded curtly at him, and then squeezed his eyes shut.

He let out a cry, but couldn't move his arm back. He bit his lip to stop himself from yelling for Oliver to stop. He shook and trembled and two tears trailed down the sides of his face, crying all ready and this was so hard, he thought maybe harder than just being strapped to the table.

He made it all the way through that one. Oliver touched his hair briefly, went to get another one. "That was really good, Barry," he said, "you're doing great."

He brought another one over and Barry looked up and he couldn't help it, he let out a sob. Oliver's hand was on his forehead again, going through his hair. "Tell me when to start, Barry," he said.

Barry just nodded, tensing all up again. This time when the brand came down his mouth was open before he could do anything, yelling stop. He was shaking, crying, trying to get a grip again.

"You can take a minute, Barry," Oliver said, "if you need it."

Barry nodded, and then let out a breath. "OK, again, again," he said. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The brand came down and he clenched his teeth tight, forced himself to ride it out. If he was able to get past the initial shock of it then the pain went down from there until it tapered off altogether. That's when Oliver went and got another one.

It took a couple more before they started getting bad. Felicity told him he was already at ten minutes and it had only been seventeen in total. That calmed him down a bit, let him relax just a tiny bit. He only had five minutes more.

Oliver started using larger ones, heating them for longer. Barry was yelling stop a lot more often, without even having them touch his skin for more than a second. When he finally did manage, on the third try for one of them, to let Oliver leave it there, a low cry started in his throat and after about ten seconds it became unbearable. He jerked away and cried for Oliver to stop. They went through a few more like that.

It wasn't looking so good then. Twenty two minutes had passed and he was only at eleven and a half. He was shuddering with sobs again, wondering how in hell Oliver expected him to do this. It hurt too much, and damnit, he was trying, he was really, really trying.

Oliver came back and Barry shut his eyes, breathed through his teeth around the crying that he had stopped caring about after the first five minutes.

"Take a breath, Barry," Oliver said, "you can do this."

Barry nodded. "Go."

He screamed, but he held onto it for twenty seconds before he was yelling to stop. He breathed for another half a minute and then told him to go again. He was moving slow, and trying desperately to go faster, but he just couldn't do it, couldn't stay still without begging Oliver to stop for more than twenty seconds at a time.

After a particularly unbearable one Barry broke out hysterically. He wasn't going to make it, he wasn't going to make it and he didn't want Oliver to rip his nails out, he didn't want to go through anything else after this. It hurt so much and he just wanted it to stop, for it all to stop. He was sobbing hysterically and crying out and writhing on the table.

"Take a minute," Oliver said again, his voice gentle, and his hand on his shoulder and neck soothing. Barry just wanted to melt into the table, disappear. Anything to make the pain stop.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, before Oliver was back with a brand and Barry had to think, too long, too long like that. He nodded at Oliver even while he turned his head away and braced himself, screamed, and then told him to stop. When Felicity finally said "That's it," it felt like a miracle.

Barry shut his eyes and brought his hands to his face, still trembling, lying down. He hurt everywhere. He wanted to die.

"Sit up," Oliver said, helping him with a hand against his back, "drink some water. You're going to be really dehydrated."

Barry took a few sips but his stomach was twisting too much and he pushed it back at Oliver.

"You're going to need more of that," Oliver said cautiously.

Barry nodded. Not right now though. Right now he needed to find a place to curl up and die.

"We can do this here," Oliver said, "But only if you stay still for me."

And that's when Barry saw the tools out and his stomach dropped and he leaned away from Oliver.

"No, Oliver, please," Barry said.

"You did really well," Oliver said, "you're only three minutes over." Barry tried to pull away, but Oliver had a grip on his arm. Oliver could already see Barry's eyes flashing around, looking for an escape route. "Barry," he said, a little sterner this time, "you have to stay still for me, otherwise I'm going to have to put you back on the table."

Barry went pale and he started shaking so hard the table was rattling. Oliver put a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be OK," he said, "it's only three minutes."

"Are you –," Barry said through half-pained half-panicked gasps, "are you going to – to pull them out? All the way? I don't – they won't heal like –"

"No," Oliver said, "Not if you don't want me to. Honestly it might be less painful if I just worked on one nail – but I'll spread it out instead if you want."

Barry nodded hastily. Oliver picked up the bamboo.

"Wait," Barry said, his voice rushing, panicked. "Wait – some more water – some –"

"Not now, Barry," he said. "Felicity's going to start the timer." He shot a glance over, "and we're going to start."

Barry was hyperventilating hard now, watching as Oliver took his hand and placed the sliver under the pointer finger of his right hand.

"And remember," he said, "to stay still. If I have to put you on the table, Felicity will pause the timer. It's three minutes either way, so keep your hand steady."

Barry watched as he made the first tap. He bit his lip, suppressed a noise of pain. Another tap and the tears were back. A third and he was breathing through his mouth in harsh gasps, flinched away. Oliver kept going until Barry started to scream. He was pulling against Oliver, but he had a good grip on his wrist. He pressed Barry's hand flat to the table for more stability.

"Please, Oliver," he said in a broken gasp. It felt like he was jabbing needles through his finger, lighting them on fire. It hurt so bad.

Oliver moved to another finger abruptly, and Barry had about one second to be thankful, and then the process started all over again. Oliver was going fast, way too fast, and there was nothing Barry could do.

"Stay still," Oliver reminded him when he tried to curl his fingers, "concentrate, Barry. You don't want to go on the table."

Barry forced himself to still, tried to hang onto that, because no, he really, really didn't want to be strapped down, unable to move at all. He cried and yelled and sobbed and let Oliver continue until Felicity called out that the three minutes were up and Barry about all but collapsed.

"Alright," Oliver said, rubbing his back as he shuddered and gasped, "all done. You did great, Barry. It's all over now. Let's get you out of here."

Barry was still crying when Oliver helped him off the table, and he couldn't stop. He stumbled, shaky, to the other room where he sat down next to Felicity. Oliver came back with a dozen icepacks.

"Let me see your hand," he said, taking it carefully. The skin and cuticles around his nails were all red. "These are going to hurt for a bit," he said, and placed the icepack around it, curled Barry's hand to a fist around it. He had a couple for the worst burns too, the ones which hadn't faded yet. Barry didn't say anything.

"Can you drink some more water, Barry?" Oliver asked. Barry shook his head. His eyes were glazed over, vacant. "You sure? Just try a little." He pressed the bottle to Barry's hands but he shook his head again, tried to push it back.

Oliver gave him a few more minutes, long enough for the crying to stop and the shaking to reduce to tremors, a very unhappy, very miserable face replacing the vacant expression.

"I really need you to drink some of this, Barry," Oliver said. Barry took it reluctantly and got down a few more sips. Oliver kept looking at him expectantly.

Barry shook his head. He didn't want any more. He wanted to lie down. He wanted to disappear. He wanted this shaking and the horrible, awful feeling inside him to go away.

"I know you don't feel good," Oliver said, "But you have to drink this."

"Not thirsty," he said, his voice raw.

"No, but you're dehydrated," Oliver said.

Barry grimaced.

"If you won't drink it," Oliver said, "Caitlin's going to hook you up to an IV."

Oliver regretted it the instant he said it. Barry's face just crumpled. He was looking for the scowling defiance, but Barry just looked like he was going to cry. He took the water bottle in a shaky hand, tipped it back. He took a few gulps before gasping, then going again. He drained the bottle.

"Thank you, Barry," Oliver said, rubbing his knee.

Barry curled into the corner of the couch, away from both him and Felicity. He pulled the blanket over him, hid his face, but he was still shuddering.

Oliver sighed, "I'm going to go," he said quietly to Felicity. "I'll be back in though."

Felicity nodded and then moved over to Barry, hand moving over his leg. "Bar?" she said, "hey, come back." Oliver left and Felicity leaned across Barry, pulled the blanket from over his face. He glared at her.

"Don't hide," she said, "let me help."

Barry curled up tighter.

Felicity just kept rubbing circles on his leg. "You want to watch some TV?" When Barry didn't answer, she kept going. "I've still got that ice cream, if you're not feeling sick. I can get us a movie – or do you just want to sleep? I could put it on really low if you wanted, just background noise, a distraction. You really shouldn't get stuck in your thoughts right now, Barry. I could read you something… or what about video games? I'm not great but I'm sure Oliver would play you – or oh, what if you took a nice, long hot shower? Actually, you know what, that might irritate the burns. Maybe later. We could… well, actually, this is going to sound ridiculous I know, but studies have shown that coloring, like in coloring books, is actually a very good stress reliever, or –" She broke off when Barry shifted, trembling. "Or," she said in a softer tone, feeling the tension in his muscles under her hand, "we could just talk about it." She looked down, tried to gauge a reaction. "If you wanted to. It might make you feel better."

Barry's head poked out from under the blankets just a tiny bit. "It hurt," he said, "there's not much to talk about. It hurt, it hurt a lot, and then it hurt even more."

"It's all going to be done soon," she said.

Barry shuddered.

"Can you come over here, Barry."

Barry shook his head under the blankets.

"You can lie down, just over here. Let me help."

Barry slowly started to sit up, and then he shifted so his head was resting against her leg, but only because Felicity would play with his hair now and that would make it maybe a tiny bit better. But he went right back to hiding in the blankets once he was there.

Felicity did run her fingers through his hair and Barry was still shaking on and off. His heart was still beating too fast, even for him. He wasn't panicking, not like he had before, but his body wouldn't come down from the pain – he was still all keyed up, and it didn't feel like the pain was lessoning, it felt like it was getting worse.

He tensed up when he felt a familiar stab of pain in his back. He waited, and then it was back. He broke out sweating again.

"Felicity," he said, his voice shaking.

"Yeah, Barry? What's wrong?"

"I – it hurts."

"I know, Barry, it's going to get better, I promise."

"No i-it – it's happening again. Felicity, it's happening again." His voice was escalating and he was scared. He didn't want to do this again, didn't know how to make it stop. It was spreading again, slowly, just like last time.

"Alright, Barry, I'm going to go get Caitlin and Oliver," she said, already sliding off the couch, putting a pillow under his head. "Stay right there. Deep breaths, Barry, stay calm. I'll be right back."

The next thing he knew Caitlin was kneeling next to him and she was shining a light in his eye. He flinched away.

"Open your eyes, Barry," Caitlin said, "I need to see."

So Barry opened his eyes and she shined the light and that hurt too, and he shifted, burying his head between the pillow and the back rest of the couch.

There was a hand on his forehead and then Caitlin was pulling on his shoulder and then there was a thermometer in his mouth. It beeped.

"A little too warm," she said, "nothing bad. Can you tell me what hurts, Barry?"

"Back," he said, "arm."

"Like last time?"

"Ahuh."

"Can you sit up?"

Barry groaned.

"It's going to help, Barry."

So Barry sat up and he didn't know what Caitlin thought but this was definitely _not_ helping.

Then there was something cold on his back and after he flinched he relaxed a little, because actually that didn't feel that bad.

"Here?" Caitlin asked. Barry nodded. "OK," she said, and gestured at Oliver to go stand across the room. She turned back to Barry. "Can you read off the numbers on the sign for me, Barry? You see it alright?" Barry squinted but looked and nodded where Oliver was standing, holding it up. He started listing off the numbers. "OK, good, one more time, alright?" she said when he finished. He did it again.

Caitlin removed the ice pack. "How does it feel now?" she asked.

Barry blinked. "Better," he said.

"Almost gone?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. It's caused by stress, Barry, OK? So if it happens again and we're not around, try and distract yourself. Watch TV, go for a run, talk to Iris – it doesn't matter. And if you can, try and get a new sensation. Ice will do the trick, especially since it helps numb it, but anything strong enough should work. Put a heating pad on your back, take a shower, step outside into the cold air, eat something spicy. Even a hot cup of coffee could probably do it. But try to relax when it happens. When you tense up, you make it worse – start adding some real pain to the mix."

"OK," he said.

"And I want you to drink another bottle of water," Caitlin said, holding it up, "and eat a calorie bar."

Barry groaned, tried to turn away.

"No," she said, "this could also be triggered by dehydration or low glucose levels. Eat and drink. Now."

There was no arguing with Caitlin. He drank the water slowly, ate the bar bit by bit. When he was finally done, Caitlin and Oliver left again, leaving him with just Felicity.

"You're looking a little better now," Felicity said.

"Yeah," Barry said. He still felt like shit. Now it was just a slightly more stable shit. He didn't feel like he was going to spontaneously burst into tears anymore, or like everything was unbearable. He still lay back down, head on Felicity's thigh.

"You gonna try and sleep?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. He still wasn't quite all the way down. The memories were too sharp, still right in his focus.

"We should try yoga," Felicity said.

"I don't really feel like moving."

"We should do it tomorrow before you go in." Barry tensed. He didn't want to think about that. "I bet that would help," Felicity continued.

"Yeah, maybe," he said. He curled up a little, moved his head to the side. He kept his eyes open.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired."

"Yeah?"

"Scared."

"Everything's alright now."

"Yeah, I know."

"You don't need to be afraid, Barry. It's just Oliver, and I know it hurts a lot, and the pain is scary, but he'd never, you know, injure you – like really hurt you. You're always going to be OK."

"Yeah."

"You know that right?"

"Yeah," Barry said, "No – I didn't – I trust Oliver, it's just – it still…"

"Scary?"

"Yeah."

"You doin' OK now?"

"I feel…" He trailed off, curled up a little more. "I feel sick. Like I'm going to puke – or like – like I just want to hide and – and like there's something bouncing around inside me, screaming and it won't stop – like it's going to tear me apart and it's unbearable, just this – this awful dread and terror that – that hurts. It's all shaky, and unstable, and… I don't know, just…"

"Too much?"

"Yeah."

"It's alright now," she said, pulling her fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulder, pulling the blanket a little bit up over his arm. "It's just your body. You're still all worked up – adrenaline and endorphins, it's making you jittery, and that combined with trauma, is putting you into a state of distress. It's OK. It'll go away, and then you can just relax. Try and calm down. Take nice deep breaths."

"It still hurts some."

"You need to try not to think about it, Barry," she said, "Or if you are going to think about it, if you feel like you have to, then you need to talk it through. We don't want you getting all keyed up again."

And Barry was. He was working himself back up, thinking about everything, images spitting out in flashes across his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to stop and knowing he couldn't, of forcing himself to stay, to telling Oliver to start and stop and then the awful realization at the end, the blind panic.

"Hey," Felicity said, shaking him, "what did I just say? Talk to me."

"Can't stop thinking," he said.

"What about?"

"Everything."

"More specific, Barry."

But Barry couldn't focus on one thing. "Hurt. Heat – burns, I hate burns, I hate the brands, I hate them and I don't want to do them but I really don't want the shots either I'm starting to get afraid of needles I really don't like them but Caitlin has to sometimes but it scares me now." He was rambling. He couldn't think.

"Caitlin will go nice and slow and gentle with you if you ask her," Felicity said.

"I know," he said, "I don't like to ask. I feel bad."

"It's not your fault."

"I am really bad with pain, aren't I?"

"You've never had to deal with it like this."

"It shouldn't affect me this much."

"This is not your fault Barry. Everyone reacts differently, and you're enduring more than you ever should have to."

"Oliver can handle more."

"You're not Oliver. You don't need to be Oliver. Be Barry Allen."

"If I were Oliver I could have caught the guy already."

"If you were Oliver you would have killed him."

Barry didn't say anything. He shifted a little.

"Don't compare yourself to him. He's better at some things. You're better at others. You're two different people. And, you know, you do have super speed."

Barry smiled a little bit and Felicity laughed.

"Hey Felicity," Barry said, and he started to shift again. His voice was small. "Do you still have that ice cream?"

Felicity blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

**I don't want to ruin it with spoilers so just expect more soon ;)**


End file.
